Photo Finish
by matureskinsfan
Summary: A psychological mystery thriller featuring some or all of the Series 3/4 characters. Naomi gets a shock when she opens the post one day and this sets in motion a terrifying series of events which threatens her life and the lives of her loved ones.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

After about six months of virtual masterly inactivity on the writing front, the lure of 'putting pen to paper' and coming up with another Skins story has finally proved too great to resist. So here I am again, this time with a (probably over-ambitious) attempt at a psychological mystery thriller involving some (or maybe even all?) of the cast of Series 3 & 4, including many of our old favourites. As usual, I've only got the bare outline of a plot worked out in my head for now so I shall be making spontaneous decisions as to where the story goes at certain points as I go along, which may not be the most disciplined way of writing a story but it seems to work for me.

I shall, as always, be thrilled to get any reviews along the way and am always extremely grateful for any comments or critical appreciation that anyone can spare the time to pass on any of the chapters that I write. I hope you enjoy the story (and the rocky ride along the way!).

**CHAPTER ONE: RED LETTER DAY**

When Naomi woke up that morning she had a strange feeling that this was not going to be any ordinary day. Not that many of her days over the last couple of years had been particularly ordinary or uneventful. Indeed she never ceased to be amazed at just how much dramatic and emotional turmoil she had managed to pack in to her hitherto fairly short life – emotionally and psychologically she felt like she was eighteen going on thirty-five. It was going to take something pretty special to knock her out of her stride after all she had been through in recent times and yet, as she quietly got out of bed, taking great care not to disturb a still peacefully sleeping Emily beside her, she had a vague notion that something inexplicably weird and disturbing was going to happen that day. With that in mind, she felt compelled to get up and do something rather than just lie in bed and meekly wait for _it _to happen, whatever it might be.

As she slowly put on her dressing gown which she had thrown carelessly on to the floor the previous evening, tidiness not being one of her strong points, she looked across at Emily who had curled herself up into a snug little ball and was breathing quietly and rhythmically on her left side. Naomi couldn't suppress a huge smile as wide as the Bristol Channel as she gazed over at the little bundle of adorable cuteness that was the redheaded Emily. _Her _Emily, she thought to herself as her eyes wandered over all the features of her girlfriend's face which she could see poking out from under the duvet.

She successfully fought off the temptation to go over to her and plant a passionate smacker on her delicately shaped rosy lips. She looked so peaceful lying there and it didn't seem fair to interrupt her beauty sleep – not that she was in great need of any, she couldn't possibly get more beautiful in Naomi's eyes – just to satisfy her own immediate sexual desires which she knew were bound to be fulfilled at some point in the day ahead in any case. Instead Naomi quietly tiptoed her way across the bedroom, opened the door and went out onto the landing, shutting the door behind her. She went downstairs, paused to pick up the post, half a dozen assorted letters which were lying on the front door mat and at which she only gave the briefest of glances and went through into the kitchen to put the kettle on, throwing the letters on to the kitchen table.

Five minutes later she was sipping at a steaming cup of invigorating black coffee, with her long legs stretched out on one of the other chairs around the table, impatiently willing the hot, strong, dark liquid to blow away the cobwebs of her befuddled mind, not to mention the still lingering after effects of the skinful she had knocked back the night before when she and Emily had been partying into the small hours with Effy, Katie, JJ and Lara.

She sat alone in merciful silence, recalling with a wistful smile random memories of the previous evening: JJ spectacularly falling arse over tit trying to execute a particularly ambitious but ill-advised dance manoeuvre which he had just seen Lara perform with consummate ease and felt compelled to seek to emulate for her approval; Katie accidentally sending some poor girl's drink flying as she waved her arms around manically whilst describing to the rest of the gang how she had just given some poor, misguided bastard the brush off after he had tried to pull her on the dance floor; Emily sneaking up on her unawares in the toilets and shoving both hands up her dress to grab her butt cheeks affectionately but firmly, causing Naomi to let out a high-pitched squeal of surprise and, it had to be admitted, not a little pleasure also, at exactly the same moment as Effy emerged from one of the cubicles and collapsed in fits of laughter at the sight of Emily's wickedly mischievous grin and Naomi's open-mouthed look of mock horror.

Naomi started sniggering to herself as she recalled the fun moments they had all enjoyed the night before and, as she struggled to contain her laughter, she begun to examine more closely the letters which she had previously put down on the kitchen table. A couple were obviously bills, electricity and water rates judging by the writing on the envelopes which she immediately chucked to one side as not worthy of any further attention. Two more appeared to be standard junk mail which she crumpled up and threw with a stifled scream of irritation and frustration at the litter bin, though her anger was instantly tempered by the small sense of achievement she felt in seeing the two screwed up balls of paper hit the sides of the bin before neatly disappearing inside it. The fifth and final letter did however grab her attention. It was an A4 size white envelope addressed to her in unremarkable capital letters, all of uniformly equal size and style, post-marked Bristol and posted the day before. Other than that, there was no indication as to who it was from or what it contained.

Mildly intrigued,Naomi gulped down the last dregs of her coffee, put the mug down on the table and proceeded to roughly tear open the envelope with her fingers, not even bothering to preserve the envelope for further use. She looked inside and then emptied the contents onto the table before peering down to examine them at close quarters. One of the two items that fell onto the table was a photograph and the other was a piece of plain paper with some writing on it but Naomi's attention was initially drawn towards the photo which she picked up and looked at. What she saw immediately chilled her to the bone and caused her to drop the photo onto the table with a loud scream which she instinctively tried to cover up by putting her hand to her mouth.. Her heart was thumping like the clappers and her palms had quickly become sweaty and clammy with fear and shock.

As she forced herself to look down at the photograph a second time with disbelieving, terrified eyes, she tried to take in the full horror of the scene that was staring back at her. It was a picture of what for all the world looked like a dead girl, lying on her back in a pool of thick, dark red blood. There were obvious stab wounds all over her naked body which seemed to be stretched out on a bed in a provocative, glamour model-style pose which Naomi found utterly sickening and almost made her throw up all over the table. The girl could only have been about her age or maybe a year or two older possibly but it wasn't anyone she recognised. Naomi didn't know whether that made her better or worse but she found she had to take in huge gulps of air to stop herself from screaming again and she was trembling so violently that she needed to grab hold of the side of the table so as not to faint and fall off her chair.

She didn't know how long it was that she just sat there staring down blankly and uncomprehendingly at the shocking image of the photograph. It felt like it could have been hours but in fact it was only a minute or two. Without being able to take her disbelieving eyes off the photograph she reached out her hand and picked up the other item which had fallen out of the envelope, the piece of paper with some writing on it. She jerked her head away from the image of the horrendously mutilated dead girl and focused her attention briefly on the piece of paper. It was an A4 sized plain white piece of paper, the sort of paper used in offices for printing or photocopying, and it had words stuck on to it which might have been cut out of newspapers and put together to spell out a message. Naomi read the words silently whilst holding her breath in abject terror and feeling overcome by a heavy sense of foreboding. When she had got to the end and the message had been taken in loud and clear she started crying and screaming, at first relatively quietly and then gradually her sobs and screams grew in intensity until they would have been clearly audible to anyone else in the house.

Unsurprisingly, barely a few moments after Naomi's screaming and crying had built up to an easily detectable level of desperate anguish, the sound of Emily tearing down the stairs could be heard and the redhead, still dressed only in the T-shirt and knickers she had been sleeping in, flew into the kitchen from where she had been able to make out Naomi's terrified screams were emanating

'Naoms! What's the matter?' cried an understandably frightened and bewildered Emily, who rushed over towards a still sobbing Naomi and threw her arms around her whilst frantically looking around the kitchen for signs of what on earth could have caused such an extraordinary reaction in her girlfriend who she knew all too well was not easily reduced to such howls of tears without a very good reason. Naomi gratefully sank into Emily's arms, still crying and clung on to the redhead for dear life, as if she was afraid to let go of her ever again.

'It's all right, Naoms, it's all right. I'm here, I'm here. What's up? What's upset you so much?' Emily was starting to feel sick with worry as she couldn't imagine what could have made Naomi react like this. She couldn't see anything in the kitchen which could have brought on such an untypical outburst in her normally so cool, so laid back and so controlled girlfriend. But she knew that the best thing to do was just to let her calm down, to give her time to recover her self-control and customary poise and then she would tell her what was going on. Emily knew there was no point in trying to force it or shake it out of Naomi before she was ready. She contented herself with hugging her tightly, kissing her softly on the side of her face and reassuring the distressed blonde that everything was going to be okay, that she, Emily, was here now and she would take care of her.

After a minute or two Emily could sense that Naomi's sobbing and shaking was starting slowly to subside and soon the blonde girl felt able to relax her hitherto vice-like grip on the redhead enough to pull back from her just a little and look into Emily's anxious yet still love struck big brown eyes. Emily smiled weakly at Naomi, more from an unspecified fear than from any firm conviction that all was fine and dandy in their world right then

'Take some deep breaths, sweetheart, and then tell me calmly what the fuck's the matter. Okay?' She leaned forward slightly and kissed the blonde girl ever so softly and sweetly on the cheek, hoping that would accelerate the calming down process.

Naomi nodded and attempted the tiniest of smiles at Emily's endearing words of advice and reassurance, breathing deeply several times as she looked deep into Emily's eyes, whilst still holding on to her with both arms tightly held around her neck. Finally Naomi felt calm enough to speak for the first time even though her voice was very shaky and betrayed the fear and utter bewilderment with which she still felt overwhelmed.

'I got these sent to me in the post,' she said, almost in a rasping whisper, as she tried to clear her throat and get the words out more strongly. She nodded towards the photograph and the message on the piece of paper and as Emily followed Naomi's gaze and looked across at the table, her eyes bulged wide and she caught her breath as she saw the horrific image of the dead girl which had so shocked Naomi only a short time ago.

Emily reluctantly picked up the photo to have a closer look at it and Naomi could see that she was as horrified and sickened by what she saw just the same as she had been.

'Oh my God!' cried out a stunned Emily who put her hand up to her mouth, perhaps to stop herself from heaving. 'Who is she? Why have you been sent this? Who did this?'

Those and many more equally good questions appeared to defy any rational answers at that precise moment. Emily sharply turned her head away from the sickening image of the blood-soaked dead girl and focused on the message pieced together letter by letter on the plain piece of paper.

'**I'D KEEP LOOKING BEHIND YOU, IF I WERE YOU. YOU NEVER KNOW, YOU COULD BE NEXT!**

'Jesus Christ! What the fuck does that mean, you could be next?' Emily's heart was beating louder than your average heavy metal band drum and she felt her stomach drop several feet and almost hit the floor. She turned her eyes back to a still badly shaken but now much becalmed Naomi who shook her head slowly in complete bewilderment.

'I haven't got the foggiest, Ems. I don't understand any of this. Why has all this revolting stuff been sent to me?'

'Maybe it's just some sick bastard's idea of a joke. Maybe someone you've pissed off recently?' Emily knew she was clutching at straws with this suggestion. Sure, Naomi had an unerring ability to piss people off with her forthright manner and plain speaking but even she couldn't possibly have wound someone up so much as to go this far in getting their own back. No, it had to be something more than that.

'Oh come on, Ems. Who do we know who could have done something like this? We don't know anyone with that much imagination if it's supposed to be a joke. Besides, that picture looks fucking real to me.'

The blonde girl fell silent once more as she contemplated the photograph of the girl lying in the pool of what looked very much like real blood to her. She bit her bottom lip as she often did when she was deep in thought or anxious or nervous about something and reached out her hand towards Emily's who immediately took it and squeezed it reassuringly, although Emily couldn't begin to imagine what she could do or say to reassure Naomi that this was really nothing to get upset or worried about. At that moment Emily felt as frightened and confused as she had ever felt in her life. Some complete stranger, some sick psycho, had made a cold, calculated threat on her beloved Naomi for no apparent reason whatsoever and she was terrified to death. But she didn't want to show it. She had to try to remain strong and calm and not fall to pieces in front of her girlfriend who needed her now more than ever before.

'Well, there's only one thing to do, Naoms. We've got to show this to the police.'

'Hang on, Ems. Don't let's be too hasty. Let's think it through a bit at least before getting the police involved.'

Emily frowned at Naomi and looked up at her with more than a degree of suspicion and curiosity. She couldn't believe Naomi's obvious reluctance to take the sensible course of action and call the police in. What else were they supposed to do?

'What? Naomi, do you understand what's happened here? It looks like some girl's been brutally murdered by some sicko who's taken a photo of her afterwards and sent it to you! Oh, and by the way he's also warned you that _you_ could be the next one on his list! For fuck's sake, what else do you think we should do? Look into it ourselves? Don't tell me you've always fancied being a bit of a private detective on the quiet!'

Emily burst into tears after that impassioned plea to Naomi to get real and come to her senses. Naomi immediately regretted what she had said and pulled Emily towards her, put her arms around the distressed redhead and started apologising profusely for being so insensitive.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Honestly. I wasn't thinking straight. Of course we'll go to the police. I'm just…a bit angry and confused, that's all. Please don't cry, Ems. It'll be all right, you'll see. The police will sort it all out.'

Naomi wasn't bullshitting when she told Emily that she was feeling angry. Her initial feelings of horror and fear when she had first seen the photograph and the message which she believed were genuine enough had now been replaced with fury and outrage that someone had dared to try to frighten her and her Emily like this. She was quietly seething inside with all manner of resentments and righteous indignation and was harbouring unrealistic thoughts of revenge and retribution against person or persons unknown. It was probably better for everyone, she thought, if the police found whoever had done these sick and depraved acts before she did otherwise she might not be responsible for her actions.

'Come on,' she said softly to a still distraught and emotional Emily. 'Let's get dressed and go straight to the police station and tell them what's happened, eh? We'll feel much better when we've put them in the picture. Hey, just think, they might even give us our very own personal bodyguards for a day or two until they catch the guy!'

'Oh great!' said Emily smiling weakly at Naomi, though the blonde could see that her eyes weren't laughing much. 'We get given a couple of Neanderthal macho bobbies hanging around us the whole time when all I want to do is fuck your brains out. Terrific'!


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

Can I say a big THANK YOU to everyone who commented on chapter 1 and especially to those of you who remembered me from many months back and so warmly welcomed me back into the Skins fanfic fold? It's nice to be back- and conversing with a few familiar names once more makes it even more enjoyable. I'm really grateful for all your reviews and I hope you continue to like the story and submit the occasional review as I attempt to create some intrigue and mystery for our characters.

**CHAPTER TWO: PROTECTION RACKET**

Emily looked around the interview room that she and Naomi had been shown into some fifteen minutes ago by the desk sergeant and wrinkled her nose in barely disguised disapproval, bordering on outright disgust. She had never been inside a police station before so didn't have any previous on which to base her expectations but it was fair to say that she hadn't imagined her surroundings would be quite so depressing. The room was virtually bare, save for a large wooden table set squarely in the middle and four seriously uncomfortable chairs on two of which she and Naomi were now sitting, impatiently waiting for someone to start taking them seriously. The insipid grey painted walls seemed to perfectly match her growing mood of despair and she began to wonder if they had done the right thing. She suspected they would have got more of a rapid response if they had turned up at their local Boy Scouts Hall.

'How much fucking longer are we going to have to wait?' she moaned to Naomi who merely rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows to indicate that she too was becoming pretty pissed off that a crack murder squad hadn't already been assigned to their case and was out on the streets hunting for the killer. Emily took another sip of her police station issue tea which a policewoman had brought them shortly after their arrival and screwed up her face a second time as she swallowed. It hadn't improved with age from her first sip, that was for sure. Granted it was hot and wet but then so were certain other things in her life and they tasted a million times better than this revolting concoction. Any resemblance to a decent cup of tea was purely coincidental, she surmised.

Then, as both girls sighed almost in unison for the umpteenth time inside the last five minutes, the door suddenly opened, shaking them violently out of their misery and in strode a man who at least gave the impression that he meant business and wasn't in the mood for fannying about with them, unlike everyone else they'd spoken to so far.

'Sorry for keeping you waiting so long,' apologised DI Straw as he sat down opposite the two girls and carefully laid the photograph and the note on the table in front of him. 'We needed to check if there were any fingerprints on them.'

'And?' asked Naomi, without much optimism in her voice. She could guess what the answer was going to be.

'Afraid not, as I suspected. Still, you have to check these things, just in case.'

'Well, whoever sent Naomi this stuff was hardly likely to make it _that_ easy for you to find him, was he?' reasoned Emily logically. 'So what are you going to do to protect Naomi?' She looked DI Straw straight in the eyes with as intimidating a glare as she could muster and dared him to disappoint her.

'Well, there's not a great deal we can do, I'm afraid. I mean, it's not as if we know who's sent you these things, do we? That is if they _are_ genuine, of course.'

'Does that photo look like it's a fake?' protested Naomi, raising her voice several decibels as she found it impossible to contain her frustration any longer. Clearly this guy wasn't taking their concerns seriously, she fumed silently.

'Couldn't it be someone you know, a friend perhaps, playing a joke on you?' DI Straw winced ever so slightly at Naomi's outburst but thought better of telling her to calm down a bit. The surly, tall blonde girl leaning forward somewhat menacingly opposite him didn't look like someone who would take kindly to a bit of well-intentioned, sound advice from an experienced old sweat like himself.

'You think we have friends who would pull this sort of stunt, do you?' Naomi found it hard not to sneer contemptuously at the detective. 'You've got to be joking. No-one we know would do a thing like this. It's….. revolting. It's sick. It frightened the crap out of us, you know.'

'Okay, not a friend then. What about someone who doesn't like you? Do you have any enemies that you know of?' DI Straw was relieved to be finally leading the girls down the route towards what he thought was the most likely explanation for the incident.

'No. Plenty of good friends, but no enemies,' said an equally angry but reasonably controlled Emily, looking quickly at Naomi for confirmation. Naomi merely nodded and turned a further accusing stare on the detective.

'So, Miss Campbell, you can't think of anyone that you might have upset recently who might hold a grudge against you, perhaps for something you've said or done which would give that person a reason to want to get their own back at you?.

DI Straw was finding it hard to believe that the fiery, stroppy little madam staring him down at that moment wasn't capable of pissing a few people off big time without any trouble whatsoever. He already knew he wouldn't care to run into _her_ in a dark alley at night. She was scaring the shit out of him and he'd only just met her. What effect might she have had on anyone else who foolishly crossed her path, he wondered.

'No! I dropped all my homicidal maniac acquaintances a few years back.'

Naomi's eyes sparkled with rising indignation and defiance but then almost as quickly her resentment subsided and she cleared her throat before repeating her response, this time with noticeably more respect and restraint. 'No. …..no-one who would do a thing like that.' Naomi's tone was strangely softer and more hesitant, thought Emily who looked across at her and wondered what she was thinking.

'Well, do you recognise the girl in the picture?' Straw decided to explore a different avenue of enquiry, picking up the vibe of Naomi's sudden apparent desire to close that particular line of qeustioning. He turned round the photo so that both girls could have a good look at it again.

There was what felt to Emily like a disconcertingly uncomfortable silence before Naomi answered.

'No, I don't know her. I've never seen her before in my life.'

Emily was quick to follow Naomi's response with a similar flat denial but after shaking her head to reinforce the point she couldn't help but think back to the last time they had been interviewed by the police and had been asked if they knew a dead girl. On that occasion she recalled that Naomi had more or less spoken for the pair of them in denying that they knew her at all. It subsequently transpired that in doing so Naomi had been somewhat economical with the truth, or perhaps more accurately had told a bit of a porky. That is if screwing the girl in question behind Emily's back just hours after having met her for the first time at a University Open Day and then denying that she knew her could be seen as 'a bit of a porky.'

It was the first time in quite a long while that the image of Sophia had come into Emily's head and the mere memory of her and the effect she had had on her relationship with Naomi made the redhead shift nervously in her seat. She licked her lips involuntarily and shot a quick glance across at Naomi who returned her gaze steadfastly and nodded her agreement. This time Emily was one hundred percent sure that Naomi was telling the truth. She knew she would never lie to her about another girl again.

'Are you both absolutely sure? Take another look if you want. I know it's not exactly a pleasant sight but perhaps you might have bumped into her at college or in a pub or club one evening?'

The two girls shook their heads after giving the briefest of final glances at the photograph on the table. Neither of them wanted to look at that disturbing picture ever again.

DI Straw let out a barely discernible sigh of disappointment and leaned back in his chair, wondering if the blonde girl's noticeable sudden change in attitude was because she was lying her face off about not knowing the girl in the photo.

'The thing is, I've had our database checked and there's no record of any young girl even remotely looking like one this turning up dead in the last week or two. Not round here at any rate. No young girls have been brutally stabbed to death that anyone knows about. So, you can see why it's difficult for us to do anything much about this threat at the moment. We've just got nothing to go on.'

Emily stared in disbelief at the detective and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. 'So that's it, is it?' she cried, trying to choke back the emotion that was threatening to overcome her. 'You don't think there's anything to worry about that my …..that Naomi's had a death threat? Just run along now, girls, and stop wasting valuable police time, is that what you're saying? I don't fucking believe this!'

'Ems, calm down.' Naomi put a consoling hand on a considerably distraught Emily's arm and turned her concerned blue eyes towards her the redhead. 'He's got a point, I guess. The police really don't have much to go on.'

She looked over at DI Straw whilst still affectionately rubbing Emily's arm and spoke calmly but firmly to the straight-faced detective who had barely reacted to Emily's heartfelt plea.

'You can't completely rule out the possibility that the photo and the note are genuine, can you, though?' Straw shook his head and opened his mouth to add something further but Naomi continued with a quiet determination.

'Can't you at least agree to give us some sort of protection until you can definitely rule out the risk of my life or Emily's being in danger?'

DI Straw contemplated Naomi in silence for a few seconds before getting up and offering them some small crumb of consolation, a gesture of recognition that these two girls were genuinely scared and that they were looking to him to put their minds at rest.

'Look, I'll see what I can do. I'll have a word with the uniform branch and we'll see if they can spare a constable to keep an eye on your house for the next few days, especially in the evenings and late at night when you might be feeling most…..well, vulnerable, shall we say. Will that do?'

'I suppose it will have to, won't it?' said Naomi with a note of weary resignation in her voice. 'Thanks,' she added as an afterthought, as if suddenly reminded of some basic manners. 'Come on, Ems, let's go home and start putting up the barricades and building Fortress Campbell.'

'If there are any developments please let me know immediately. Here's my card,' and DI Straw held out his card towards Naomi who took it with no great display of enthusiasm and put it straight in her pocket without giving it even a cursory glance.

The two girls stood up and were silently shown out of the soulless interview room and then escorted politely out of the police station by their apology for a Super Hero

'What the fuck are we going to do, Naoms?' asked a clearly still terrified Emily as the two girls closed the front door behind them back at Naomi's house. Their return journey home had been conducted in almost complete silence, as if they were both too stunned and unsure as to what to say to each other to rally their spirits. Emily had clung on to Naomi throughout the whole journey as if she half expected her girlfriend to be taken out by some hidden sniper at any moment or whisked away from her clutches and bundled into the back of a passing car. Naomi had thought Emily's concerns and attention were incredibly sweet but they only succeeded in putting her more on edge than she already was.

'I don't know,' replied Naomi, taking more than usual care to check that the front door was securely locked before going into the living room and throwing herself down onto the sofa. Emily sat down right next to her and cuddled up to the blonde and for a while the two girls just held on to one another, each seemingly seeking out the warmth and sensations of each other's bodies for reassurance and comfort. However scared and vulnerable both of them were feeling at that moment, being together, so close emotionally and physically gave them an extra layer of strength and resolve to deal with the fears and uncertainties that were playing on their minds.

'I guess it could be just a hoax, like that detective said, couldn't it?' Emily was the first to break the silence and attempt to put a positive spin and interpretation on the photo and the note.

'But who do we know who would do a thing like that, Ems? Even as a joke, you've got to admit it's pretty sick and twisted. Who hates me that much to scare the shit out of me….out of both of us that way? I mean, it's a hell of a lot of trouble to go to just to have a bit of a laugh at our expense.'

'But even if it isn't a joke, who is this bastard and why has he sent that revolting photo and the threatening note to _you_? Surely it means he knows who you are? You might have even spoken to him at some time or other!'

Naomi shivered at the thought that she might have actually met this psycho killer, even if only very briefly. She had been sifting through her head ever since they had left the police station all the people she knew, even vaguely, all those vague acquaintances whom she couldn't possibly describe as friends as such but people whom she saw, recognised or perhaps simply nodded at on a regular basis every day of her life. Teachers, shop assistants, barmen, neighbours. For fuck's sake, she thought, for all she knew it could be the postman himself. How ironic would that be?

'But there's a shitload of people who both you and I see almost every day of the week, Ems. We don't know much about any of them, do we, but some of them will know where we live, others know what sort of things we like doing, who our friends are, where we hang out, all sorts of shit about us. It could be absolutely ANYONE!'

That simple, frightening, yet undeniable truth made them fall silent once more as the full significance of it reverberated around their heads until it became too terrifying to contemplate any more. They slumped even more desperately into each others bodies so that it was almost difficult to tell where one of them started and the other finished.

Emily closed her eyes and breathed heavily as she tried hard to block out all the dreadful images that were flying around in her head, like her coming home to find Naomi stabbed to death on the living room floor with a note pinned to her lifeless body saying simply 'I warned you!'

A sudden loud mobile phone ring startled the pair of them so much that it made them both almost jump out of their skins, evidence if such was needed of how nervous and jumpy they had both become. Emily got up and reached inside her bag for her phone. A quick glance told her that it was Katie and she took the call, despite not much feeling in the mood for a sisterly, girly chat which was the usual reason for her twin to call her.

'Hi,' she said. 'What's up?'

She listened for a few moments, frowned down the phone at Katie and quizzed her sister for more precise information.

'What do you mean, "something fucking weird's going on?" Something weird's always going on in your life, Katie. So what's new?'

She listened some more, having to hold the phone away from her face as her excitable sister started shouting at her, causing Emily to interrupt her flow of mild hysteria before it could get any worse.

'Okay, okay! Don't get your knickers in a twist, Katie. Just come on round here and we'll talk. No, I can't come round to you. We can't leave the house for now. I'll see you here in a while.'

Naomi had pulled a face indicating her surprise and disagreement which she didn't hold back from expressing when Emily had hung up.

'Why can't we leave the house for now? Jesus, Ems, I'm buggered if I'm going to let this thing make me become a prisoner in my own house. How long do you intend us to stay holed up in here?'

Emily came back over to sit down next to Naomi and took both her hands in her own. 'I'm really frightened, Naoms. I don't want you to go outside while there might be someone out there trying to kill you! Please, for my sake!' She started crying again and Naomi immediately felt awful for having been so harsh and short with her and she let go of Emily's hands in order to wrap her arms tightly around the tearful redhead's neck, feeling a few stray tears fall lightly onto her face as she did so. For the next minute or two Naomi hugged and kissed her girlfriend, reassuring her as best she could that everything would be okay and that they would work something out. She hoped that it sounded more convincing and plausible to Emily than it did to her because she didn't have a clue how they were going to get through the next few days of their life together without one or both of them completely falling to pieces.

'I know what we need,' she said pulling away from Emily.

'What?' asked a now calmer and more relaxed Emily, who could never be that miserable as long as Naomi was showering her with genuine displays of love and affection.

'Our very own Panic Room right here in the house!' smiled Naomi who was mightily relieved to see that her impromptu attempt at gallows humour had at least caused Emily to smile and give a slight snigger, the first time the redhead had looked even remotely happy that day.

'I think we've already got one, Naoms. In fact I think I'm quite capable of having a panic attack in every single room in the house.'

-.


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

Previously on Photo Finish: Naomi has been sent a disturbing parcel in the post of a photograph of a mystery dead girl and an anonymous note threatening her that she might be next on the list. A frightened Emily insists they go to the police and tell them what has happened. The Detective Inspector who sees them tells them there is nothing much the police can do for them apart from keep on eye on their house. Katie phones Emily and says they need to talk about 'something weird' that has happened to her.

**CHAPTER THREE: THE USUAL SUSPECTS?**

As Katie approached the corner of the road where Naomi's house was situated she pulled up, quickly turned her head round and looked behind her for about the tenth time in the half an hour since she had left her own home. There wasn't a soul around, no-one either walking along the street behind her, driving their car along the road or pottering in any of the front gardens of the other houses around her. To all intents and purposes she was the sole visitor to this neighbourhood at that precise moment and yet this apparent truth was little source of relief or comfort to her. She still felt just as nervy and jittery as earlier on in the day and she was keen to get inside Naomi's house and get out of the open air where she was increasingly feeling like a sitting duck target. So even though going round to Naomi's house still brought back awkward and occasionally painful memories for her, it seemed infinitely preferable to her to be with other people right then, Naomi included.

As she crossed the road and briskly approached the front door, it opened before she had even got as far as the front step and Emily appeared in the doorway, looking rather pale-faced and concerned, so Katie thought.

'Hi,' said her twin who instantly grabbed Katie by the arm, firmly but not roughly and ushered her inside without any undue ceremony or explanation.

'Hey! What's all that about?' asked Katie who didn't take too kindly to being manhandled at the best of times unless with her express permission and then only if the boy in question was reasonably fit and worthy of her close attentions. She and Emily had had plenty of rows and arguments in their time which had on occasions degenerated into physical unarmed combat but none in recent months so this initial reaction by Emily caught her by surprise.

'Just get in here, will you and we'll tell you.' Emily pushed Katie through into the living room where Naomi was sitting on the sofa drinking a large glass of vodka and ice, judging by the half empty bottle that was standing in the middle of the table.

Katie exchanged reasonably cordial greetings and pleasantries with Naomi, who managed to force a half smile at Emily's sister – they had been getting on much better in the last month or so, Emily was relieved to acknowledge – and invited Katie to join her in her own special version of afternoon tea. Katie nodded but instead of sitting down with the two girls went straight over to the window and peered out from behind the curtains, looking to left and right as if expecting to see someone.

'Why are you looking out of the window, Katie?' asked Emily, puzzled as she and Naomi exchanged bewildered glances.

Katie waited until she was clearly satisfied with the results of her curtain-twitching activities before coming away from the window, sitting down opposite to the girls and accepting the generous glass of vodka which Naomi handed over to her.

'I'm not a hundred per cent sure but I think someone's been following me and watching me ever since last night.' Katie's voice was shaking just a touch although she did her best to hide it with a look of defiance and an air of quiet composure.

'What?' Naomi and Emily cried out in perfect harmony and they looked at each other for a while in silence, each wondering if the other was thinking the same thing. Naomi was the first to speak.

'Why makes you think that, Katie?'

'I don't know. I just had this weird feeling I was being followed when I walked home last night. I mean, everything was fine when I was with the others but after they went off and I was on my own…well, I suddenly felt really scared. I practically ran the rest of the way home.'

Despite the seriousness of their current situation and the anxiety she felt in her stomach about Katie's story, Naomi couldn't suppress a smile and a slight snigger. The idea of Katie running, even for a short distance and for whatever perfectly plausible reason, seemed so unlikely that it had to bring a smile to the blonde's face. Naomi knew that Katie simply didn't do running, in the same way as Mariah Carey once famously insisted she didn't do stairs. Naomi had to assume that the poor girl really must have been shitting herself with fright if she'd had to resort to running.

'Did you see anyone following you?' asked Emily who didn't see the humorous side to Katie's story that Naomi did and was now feeling twice as scared and anxious as she had felt before Katie had arrived.

'No. But then they never do in those horror films, do they? I looked behind me loads of times on the way home and couldn't see anyone but I still had that horrible feeling that I was being followed. You know what it's like, don't you, that feeling? The feeling of being watched from a distance by someone you can't see. It's horrible!'

Katie visibly shuddered after she finished speaking and took a huge swig at her vodka to help her regain her poise and composure. 'And then there was this morning, as well.'

'What? You thought you were being followed again? On the way over her, you mean?' Emily looked anxiously across to the window and made as if to get up and check that no-one was standing outside the house with a huge knife in their hand, poised to strike but was stopped by Naomi who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and motioned to her to sit back down. 'There's no-one there, Ems. I can see outside from here.'

'No, something else,' replied Katie, draining her glass and immediately offering it out to Naomi for a refill. 'Someone phoned me three times this morning and each time I picked up the call, whoever it was didn't say a word. I could tell someone was there, though. I could just hear him breathing, very faintly in the background'

'Couldn't it have just been some arsehole you know or knew, jerking you about, just for a laugh?' Naomi's explanation seemed wholly plausible but there was very little conviction in her voice as she came out with her suggestion. She was thinking far worse thoughts than that and by the look on Emily's face as she listened, so was her girlfriend.

'That's what I thought it was at first, but after the second call, I wasn't so sure and then when I got the third one, I was certain it was way more than some old tosser of an ex- boyfriend fucking me about. I mean, they've all been total dickheads, but none of them sick dickheads who seriously liked scaring the shit out of me.'

Emily looked across at Naomi who nodded silently back at the redhead. 'Katie, I think you ought to know what's happened here today.'

'Is this to do with that crap you came out with about not being able to leave the house?' Katie had completely forgotten about the strange comment that her sister had made on the phone earlier which she remembered thinking at the time was a bloody peculiar thing to say. She had been so preoccupied with her own problems and paranoid concerns that it had clean gone out of her head until then. Five minutes was all it took for Naomi and Emily to fill Katie in fully on the macabre events of that morning and by the time they had brought her right up to speed Katie was, for one of the few times in her life, almost speechless.

'Holy shit!' was all she could manage several times as she listened to their shocking story and she had emptied her glass by the time Naomi and Emily had finished telling the tale between them. Naomi dutifully and considerately poured out another round of drinks for the three of them and made a mental note to check up on the alcohol supplies in the house. It looked like they would be in dire need of some heavy reinforcements to help them get through the next few days if the last hour or so was anything to go by.

An early autumnal evening darkness was gently starting to fall when several hours later the three girls finally admitted defeat in their combined attempts to solve the mystery of the anonymous stalker, phone caller and sender of disturbing images and messages. They had exhausted all the possibilities that they had come up with as none of them seemed to make any sense.

'What about Sam?' Emily had suggested to Katie. 'After all, you did dump him pretty brutally, even by your standards.'

'Oh come on, Em!' snorted Katie who had already considered her ex as a possible candidate and rejected the idea out of hand. 'He was a complete pussy! He doesn't have the balls to do something like this. Plus, he was as thick as two short planks. He wouldn't have the brains to think up something this complex and devious.'

'Well, you picked him, Katie so I suppose you should know,' said Naomi with a straight face, though inwardly she was laughing at Katie's unerring ability to make an unwitting fool of herself whilst attempting to slag someone else off.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Katie sensed that Naomi might have been taking the piss out of her but she wasn't entirely sure how.

'Nothing. I just said you know him better than us, so if you say he isn't capable of it, then fine, I believe you..

Emily stared deep into Naomi's laughing, blue eyes and begged her silently, telepathically, without showing too much in front of her sister, not to start anything off between the two of them. Emily had been briefly tempted but wisely thought better of mentioning the time when a rather drunk Sam tried to stick his tongue down her throat in a club one evening not long after he and Katie had split up The three of them needed to be together at this difficult time as one solid family unit, not wasting their breath on petty squabbles over stuff that wasn't important any more.

'Okay, not Sam, then. Who else is there? Who else would be mad enough, dangerous enough and sufficiently sick to pull off a stunt like this?'

After a short interval of silent contemplation, Katie made a suggestion that took the other two totally by surprise.

'If we're looking for someone completely off their head, who loves living dangerously and who's got a track record of scaring the shit out of us, then I can think of one guy straight away who fits the bill.'

'Who?' said a perplexed Naomi and Emily in tandem.

'Cook,' said Katie. She elaborated further seeing as both the other girls were looking at her as if she had totally lost her marbles.

'Well, we don't know where he is, no-one has seen him since the party at Freddie's shed. He was always a fucking head case, you never knew what shit he'd get involved in next. How do we know what he's up to or what state of mind he's in? He's still on the run, remember? He's still one of Bristol's most wanted, after all.'

'That's ridiculous, Katie.' Naomi felt she had to spring to Cook's defence. 'I know he was a bit of a dick, I know he could drive us all mental at times and he could do the most stupid things because he acted first and thought later. But he was our friend! He would never do anything like that to us. He liked us all, even if he had a funny way of showing it sometimes.'

'Okay, okay, but who else do we know who could do something this nasty and scary. Who could want to frighten you so badly, Naomi? Who might hate you this much?'

Naomi looked over at Emily whose eyes had instantly dropped to the floor. She knew they were both thinking the same thing. The same name was echoing around their heads, screaming out loud as if being shouted from the rooftops yet neither of them dared to say it. Neither girl wanted to bring out into the open all that pain and misery all over again.

Naomi had volunteered to rustle up some spaghetti Bolognese for the three of them and so they all decamped to the kitchen to help her out or, in Katie's case, to sit idly by watching the other two cook the dinner. Katie always took the concept of being a guest in someone else's house to its logical extreme, never lifting a finger and expecting to be waited on hand and foot. Fortunately for her Emily and Naomi were too preoccupied not just with cooking the meal but also with their own silent, private thoughts to bother about giving her any grief for leaving them to it.

Now the three girls were back in the living room, sitting and eating their food from trays brought out for the purpose. Emily had made some strong South American coffee with the intention of sobering them all up after their afternoon's massive attack on the house vodka. She was particularly anxious for Naomi to get her head screwed on right again as she didn't want her to do anything reckless and stupid that evening under the influence. She wanted her to be alert and focused on the most important task facing her – staying alive.

As they sat there enjoying the spaghetti and washing it down with large mugs of hot, strong coffee which seemed to be doing its job of sobering them up, they fell sleepily silent for almost the first time since Katie had made her typically dramatic entrance several hours ago. Their eyes were starting to close intermittently and their bodies relaxed as the emotional turmoil of the day finally took its toll on their exhausted minds. Katie saw that Naomi and Emily had temporarily nodded off and that seemed to have an immediate knock-on effect on her as she felt her eyes close involuntarily as she gave in to the exhaustion that was slowly overcoming her.

She must have shut her eyes for no more than thirty seconds when she reopened them with a start, presumably disturbed by an indeterminate knocking sound which her ears must have picked up and transmitted to her half sleeping brain. As she opened them and looked straight ahead up at the window, she let out an instantaneous, high-pitched scream as she saw the unexpected image of a man's face pressed hard up against the window. He was obviously looking in at them and the shock at seeing his face had clearly frightened the life out of Katie. Her hysterical screaming in turn rudely awoke Emily and Naomi from their slumber and made them turn around and look back behind them at the window with more than a hint of fear all over their deathly pale faces.

'Relax, it's the police!' said Naomi after a few seconds, having recognised the guy's police helmet and uniform and she got up to go to the door, after motioning to the constable to wait for her there.. 'Though I don't know why he can't just ring the bell like everyone else.'

She opened the front door and stood there, arms folded in silent expectation, calmly waiting for an explanation as to why the copper, who was supposed to be protecting them from all things that went bump in the night, was creeping around outside their house and scaring the living daylights out of them so successfully.

'I'm sorry if I scared you, Miss,' he said kindly, smiling somewhat ruefully at Naomi. 'I did try ringing the bell but you obviously didn't hear it.'

'What? Of course we should have heard it. Look.' Naomi pressed the bell firmly with her index finger. Nothing. Not a sound came forth. A puzzled Naomi frowned. 'That's really odd,' she said. 'It was working fine this morning, I know it was.'

'Maybe something's up with the electrics. Would you like me to have a look at it for you, Miss?' said the PC, anxious to make up for having frightened the girls.

'No thanks, we'll manage,' replied Naomi, curtly. Why did men always think women were totally clueless and helpless around the house without them? That always got her back up. 'What do you want? Are you supposed to be our police protection?'

Naomi looked the young, fresh-faced, lanky constable up and down and was less than impressed by what she saw. He seemed to be barely out of nappies and didn't exactly convey the image of a tall, well-built, brick shithouse of a policeman who no psychotic murderous maniac in his right mind would fancy taking on in order to get to three vulnerable young girls.

'Yes, that's right. I just thought I'd introduce myself. I'm PC Kevin Miller and I'll be keeping an eye on the house from time to time in the evenings. Make sure no one can get in and threaten you in any way.'

'Thanks,' said Naomi, desperately trying not to sound too under whelmed by his kind offer but failing. He didn't look like he could fight his way out of a paper bag but she charitably supposed he was better than nothing.

He smiled rather shyly, thought Naomi, and took his leave. Naomi closed the door and went back inside to tell the others that they could sleep safely in their beds now that the Incredible Hulk was standing guard over them. Emily and Katie broke out into nervous laughter and heaved a collective sigh of relief.

Emily's mobile rang and after glancing at it, she took the call, informing the others that it was JJ calling her. They exchanged a brief conversation during which Emily passed on the message that JJ and Lara were suggesting meeting for a pizza later on and did they want to join them Naomi and Katie nodded emphatically and when Emily expressed grave reservations about leaving the house, Naomi reassured the redhead that it would be okay.

'Ems, we can't stay cooped up in here forever. Besides, we're probably in far less danger being out in a crowd of people than being stuck on our own in here. What's this guy going to do? Shoot at us across a crowded room. He's not that stupid!'

Finally persuaded by the infallible logic of Naomi's argument, Emily told JJ that they were on for it and agreed to meet up in town at eight o'clock. No sooner had she hung up on JJ than Naomi's mobile also rang.

'Jesus Christ! Are we never going to get any peace and quiet?' groaned Naomi but when she took the call and heard DI Straw announce himself, she fell silent and listened hard to what he had to say. Their short conversation lasted only a minute or so but when Naomi hung up it was a very frightened, anxious, almost petrified expression that she turned on Emily and Katie who immediately realised that something was up.

'What is it, Naoms?' asked a fearful Emily and she felt her legs start to shake and her breathing become very short.

Naomi looked at Emily for a moment in silence, as if she was struggling to get the words out of her mouth and she took a huge breath and swallowed hard before finally answering her girlfriend.

'That was DI Straw. He wants to come over and see us tomorrow.'

'Why? What's happened?' Emily's heart was suddenly beating so hard and fast she thought it was going to burst out of her chest and spill out on to the floor.

'A young girl's been found dead…..murdered half an hour ago. They're not absolutely certain but they think it's the same girl as in the photograph.'

Three wide-eyed faces, all equally as white as a sheet, just looked at each other in terrified silence as they each tried to take in the shocking news that they had just been given.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

Previously on Photo Finish: Katie goes to see Naomi and Emily and tells then that she thinks she is being followed and watched by someone. Naomi gets the shocking news from the police that they think the girl in the picture anonymously sent to Naomi has been found murdered and that they want to call round and see her and Emily in the morning.

**CHAPTER FOUR: AN INSPECTOR CALLS**

Neither of them had got much sleep that night, despite the knowledge that PC Miller, presumably on explicit instructions from DI Straw, had been outside the house when the two girls had returned late in the evening and had remained there stoically on sentry duty well beyond the early hours of the morning. The comfort of having their very own personal bodyguard on immediate call should International Rescue be required didn't serve to alleviate their very real fears about their safety.

The girls clung onto each other in bed as if they were determined that not even a heavy duty, industrial strength crowbar would suffice to prise them apart. For Emily, this was a show of emotional unity, a resolve that no-one was going to get anywhere near harming her Naomi without them having to deal with her first. All for one and one for all. If you want to take her out, Mr Psycho Killer, you'd better be prepared to take me down as well. The fear she felt grip every muscle in her body wasn't for herself but for Naomi. As for Naomi, who was feeling the pressure of being the inexplicable target for this terror campaign, she was trying to immerse herself in the need to protect Emily from being dragged into something that appeared to be none of her making in order not to think too long about how afraid she was for herself.

They had both hoped that spending an evening with their friends might help them relax a bit more and push their troubles and anxieties to one side for a few hours. Sadly it was not to be, as JJ in particular only compounded their state of nervous agitation by attempting to apply his logical and scientific mind to the conundrum of the mystery killer.

'You have to examine this rationally and with cold, precise logic if you want to get to the bottom of it,' he explained, his animated eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of solving the problem presented to him. 'You can't go at it half-cock. There has to be method and reason behind the detection process.

'That's what's the police are there for, JJ,' Lara gently pointed out with a wry smile at Emily and Naomi. 'Just leave it to the professionals. This is no time for your feeble impersonations of Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot.'

'Yes, but it's always the more intelligent amateur sleuth who solves the crimes, never the stupid, bungling policemen. He sees things that they can't; he asks all the important questions that never occur to them, he uses the little grey cells while all the police have to work from is a very limited training programme which takes no account of the complexities of the human condition.'

'And you reckon _you _can work out who's behind all this, do you, JJ?' Naomi forced an unconvincing smile at JJ. She had always liked the wacky, oddball side of his character but on this occasion his love of scientific facts and the application of rational argument seemed ill-equipped to deal with uncovering the identity of a psychopathic terroriser and killer of young women

'Well, I think I can have a decent stab at it, at least,' he said with more than a hint of cautious optimism in his voice. Lara winced and apologised immediately to Emily and Naomi for her boyfriend's stunning lack of sensitivity.

'Not the best choice of words, JJ. Have you ever thought of taking up counselling? You'd be a natural.'

'Oh! Sorry girls, I wasn't thinking. I mean…..I was thinking but…well, maybe a bit too much, if you see what I mean. I just wanted to help you, that's all…'

'It's okay, JJ,' said Emily kindly, though she gripped Naomi's hand even more tightly as if terrified that if she let go of it, the tall blonde would be plucked out of the room by a giant bloodstained hand and whisked far away from her.

But JJ had got the bit between his teeth now and was on a roll. 'You see, when you're in the kind of trouble that you girls are in, when your lives are being threatened by an unknown psychopathic killer, you need one of two kinds of people to help you out. Either you find a big, strong, fearless sort of guy who will willingly lay down his life to protect you. Or you need the other kind of saviour. You need the small, weak and feeble, nerdy type of guy who's afraid of his own shadow. The kind of guy who couldn't hold off a five year old armed with a water pistol for five seconds but who's ….well, clever, super intelligent, actually. That's where I come in.'

Emily and Naomi began to giggle hysterically, despite their prevailing sense of doom and gloom, and Lara contented herself with shaking her head and rolling her eyes in mock despair at JJ's comical yet wholly accurate description of himself as the world's weediest and most unlikely superhero.

'No, seriously girls, I'm totally confident that, given all the relevant facts of the case, I could arrive at the solution to this mystery killer's identity in….well, less than a week. Without even having to visit the crime scene, talk to all the suspects or put my own life at risk in any way whatsoever.'

'You haven't a snowball's chance in hell, JJ. You're totally off your trolley! Mind you, I've known that from the start. It's one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place, the fact that you come from a completely different planet from the rest of the human race.'

JJ gave a typically nervous little giggle on hearing Lara's backhanded compliment but continued with his bold claim as he was clearly warming to his theme.

'Did you know, for example, that Hercule Poirot once solved an entire crime without even leaving his study? He simply got Captain Hastings to ask the suspects all the questions that he would have wanted to ask and then when Hastings reported back to him with the answers, he leant back in his chair, thought about them for a while….well, maybe a few days or even a week,…..and then worked out the solution to the mystery all on his own without having to leave his flat.'

'So, you see yourself as a modern day Hercule Poirot, do you, JJ?' asked Emily. 'Well, if you're going to do it, can you hurry up please because I don't know how long I can stand the strain of living on my nerves every minute of the day?'

A loud knock at the door just after ten o'clock – the doorbell still wasn't working – announced the much dreaded arrival of the police. Both the girls had been up for hours, mooching around the house, not being able to concentrate on doing any one thing except for anxiously watching the clock hands go round until they reached the appointed hour.

Naomi went to the door and opened it, leaving Emily sitting in the living room, twisting strands of hair around with her nervous fingers. Naomi fully expected to see DI Straw standing on the doorstep and in that respect she wasn't disappointed. Who she most definitely was not expecting to see, and she couldn't conceal her shock and surprise at the sight of her, was DS Blunt standing beside the Detective Inspector. Naomi let out a small but clearly audible gasp upon recognising the policewoman who had given her and Emily such an uncomfortable ten minutes when they were interviewed by the police after Sophia's death last year.

DS Blunt nodded without a smile at Naomi when they were introduced by DI Straw but that apart betrayed no other sign of emotion. Naomi showed them into the house and took them straight through to the living room, inviting them to sit down which they duly did. Emily instantly recognised DS Blunt and they exchanged greetings which it would be an exaggeration to say were warm and friendly.

'Hello, Emily,' said DS Blunt.

'Hi,' said Emily quietly and she fought hard to cover up the feelings of discomfort and apprehension that immediately washed over her at the sight of the formidable detective sergeant. She was fearful that any re-acquaintance with DS Blunt, however short-lived and innocuous, would serve only to bring back painful memories which she was all too desperate to banish right out of her mind.

'I thought it would be a good idea to bring DS Blunt along this morning seeing as she's already met the pair of you before during that tragic business with Sophia Moore,' DI Straw explained to kick off proceedings.

'But we weren't able to help you with your enquiries, were we?' stated Naomi firmly, looking DS Blunt straight in the eyes. 'So why are you here? I mean, surely this has got nothing with that girl killing herself, has it?'

'Well, we don't know that…..yet,' said DI Straw. 'That's why I've asked DS Blunt to join my team on this case. Any knowledge or information she might have about you, Miss Campbell, could be extremely useful to us in helping us to catch this man.'

'So what happened last night with the girl in the picture?' Emily took the first opportunity she could to turn the conversation away from the investigation into Sophia's death and back to the present and Naomi's safety which was her only concern. 'Who is she?'

'Her name is Michelle Read,' said DI Straw. 'She was found last night hidden in the woods only a few hundred yards away from your college. She had been stabbed several times, probably with a very sharp knife. We estimate she had been dead for at least forty-eight hours.'

A stunned silence descended upon the room as Emily and Naomi slowly digested the shocking news delivered in such cold, clinical terms by DI Straw. Naomi closed her eyes and bit her lip hard to stop herself from crying out loud, a fear which Emily was singularly unable to accomplish. The redhead started crying softly and Naomi instinctively reached out for her, took her in arms and hugged her, stroking her back and whispering, 'It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay. Everything's going to be all right.' The blonde either had momentarily forgotten about the presence of the two detectives in the room or more likely didn't give a toss about what they might think of her spontaneous and unashamed display of love and concern for Emily.

'Last night at the police station you both said you didn't recognise the girl in the photograph. Does the name Michelle Read mean anything to you?' asked DS Blunt without revealing so much as a flicker of emotion on her face as she sat watching the two girls slowly pull themselves out of their embrace.

Naomi and Emily both shook their heads and each said they had never heard of the name before.

'You're quite sure neither of you knew this girl?' Blunt persisted gently with her questioning, looking at them both in turn with eyes that were not kind, even if they weren't exactly hard.

'No!' insisted Naomi, who was starting to get fed up with Blunt's apparent reluctance to believe them. 'Why won't you believe us?'

'We're not saying we don't believe you, Miss Campbell,' reassured DI Straw after shooting a quick glance at DS Blunt. 'We just want to be absolutely sure that there is no connection between you and the dead girl, however slight or unimportant. You might have met her occasionally without paying much attention to her and you might have forgotten that fact, that's all.'

'Well I haven't,' stated Naomi with an air of total conviction. 'I've never seen her before in my life, I'll swear to it.'

'Nor me,' added Emily before either of the two detectives could ask the same question of her.

'Well, clearly whoever it was who sent you the photograph and the note seems to know you or at least who you are. So there must be a reason why he, or she, has decided to send you these things. At this stage we must presume that the intention is to scare the living daylights out of you.'

Emily's reaction to DI Straw's summing up of the situation was passionately expressed if a bit too predictable and unhelpful.

'Well, he's doing a fucking good job of that so far! We're both terrified out of our wits!'

'Of course you are, Miss Fitch. Understandably so, and that is why we will be doing everything possible to protect you from now on. But the best way to protect the two of you from any further threats to your lives is to catch this person. That's why I must come back to the question of whether you can think of anyone, _anyone at all_, who might have a grudge against you, Miss Campbell.'

Naomi waited for a few seconds before answering in the negative with as much conviction as she could muster in the circumstances. Her voice didn't waver and her eyes were steely in their determination to stare down her two inquisitors and return their persistence in kind.

'You see at the moment,' said DS Blunt, trying s different tack to get through to the girls and directing her words and her gaze more at Emily than Naomi 'we've got two different crimes to solve. We've got the killer of a murdered girl to find and we've got to find whoever sent a picture of the same dead girl and a threatening note to Naomi. But we can't say for certain at this stage that it's the same person who did them both.'

Naomi and Emily looked at each other in silence. For a second Naomi thought that Emily was on the verge of saying something and, in a blind panic, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head to prevent Emily from speaking.

'Oh, come on! That's pretty unlikely, isn't it, surely?' Unless you're looking for two people acting together in some weird kind of sick double act!'

'It _could _be two different people, however unlikely that seems. For now the only connection we have between these two very different crimes is you, Miss Campbell. You may hold the key to helping us solving both of them. That's why we need you to have a good think about it and come back to us immediately if you think of anything at all which may shed some light on this mystery.'

With those parting words, which to Naomi appeared to take on the mantle of both a heartfelt plea and a subliminal warning, the two detectives rose and started to take their leave. Whilst they were being accompanied to the front door, DI Straw reassured a plainly agitated Naomi that a uniformed policeman would be permanently stationed outside the house to protect them

'Obviously I can't make the pair of you stay in the house twenty-four seven, but if you do decide to go out anywhere one of my men will be keeping a very close watch over you, you can be sure of that. Not that I think you'll be in any danger during the daylight and you'll be safely protected in the evenings and at night. Nobody will able to get to you at all, I can promise you that.'

On that cheery and positive note the two coppers left and Naomi almost slammed the door behind them and ensured it was locked before returning to a miserable and terrified looking Emily in the living room. Naomi went over to the redhead and held her tight in her arms. They stood like that for some minutes, each holding on to the other for dear life as if letting go would mean allowing the last breath to be painfully extinguished out of the other's body.

Eventually it was Emily who broke free of their self-imposed stranglehold on each other and pulled back to look up at Naomi with a combination of fear and beseeching in her eyes.

'Please, Naoms, you've got to tell them?'

'Tell them what?'

'Oh, come on, Naoms. I was watching your face last night when the inspector asked us if we knew anyone who might have a reason to hate you. I know what you were thinking. The same thought, the same name was going through your mind as it was mine.

'No.'

'Yes, Naomi! We were both thinking about Matt. He's the only person who would have a reason to hate you this much and want to get back at you.'

'He wouldn't kill an innocent girl just to get back at me, Ems! Don't be ridiculous! If he really was that much of a psycho and wanted to get revenge for Sophia he would just go after me.'

'Not if he wanted to make you suffer first, Not if he wanted to terrify the life out of you for a while before trying to kill you! It all fits, Naoms! It all makes sense. We've got to go to the police and tell them about him.'

Naomi shook her head violently from side to side and without any warning ran out of the room, tore up the stairs and virtually threw herself into the bathroom, locking the door behind her, leaving a distressed Emily. who had followed forlornly in her wake. crying helplessly outside the bathroom door and pleading for Naomi to come out


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

Previously on Photo Finish: JJ suggests to Naomi and Emily that he could solve the puzzle of the mystery killer by applying cold, scientific, rational logic to the facts. DI Straw turns up to interview the girls with DS Blunt and asks Naomi again if she can think of anyone who might want to scare or harm her. Emily begs Naomi to tell the police about Matt but Naomi's not prepared to do that and locks herself in the bathroom to get away from Emily's pleas.

**CHAPTER FIVE: SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME**

'Naomi! How long are you going to stay in there? Come on out, please. This is ridiculous!'

Emily had decided to make one last attempt to encourage Naomi to unlock the bathroom door and discuss the situation face to face with her. She had had quite enough of this absurd closed door, one-sided conversation they had been engaging in over the last half an hour. There wasn't even a cat flap available this time for them to hold hands through and demonstrate their feelings for each other. To Emily's way of thinking this solidly built bathroom door was proving an insurmountable barrier to them reaching a joint decision on what to do, on how to go forward in these trying circumstances. She heard Naomi sniff loudly and correctly guessed that she was still feeling quite tearful and emotional and she knew she had to make a compromise.

'Look, how about this? If you come out now I _promise_ I won't try to make you do anything you don't want to do. I just want us to talk it through face to face like people who really love each other do. Please! I love you, Naoms. But it doesn't feel quite the same saying that to you through a fucking bathroom door.'

There was an uneasy and nervous silence for a few seconds and then Emily heard the muffled yet distinct sounds of Naomi getting up from the floor and moving over towards the door. The bolt in the lock was slowly pulled back and a sheepish-looking but still grimly resolute Naomi edged out of the bathroom and looked at Emily for confirmation.

'You promise you won't try to railroad me into anything?'

Yes, I promise,' said a relieved Emily and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Naomi's neck and hug the blonde who gratefully returned her heartfelt embrace with interest. They exchanged two or three long, deep yet soft kisses and smiled half embarrassed at each other, aware that they had probably both been a little guilty of making a drama out of a crisis.

'Come on, let's go back downstairs, pour ourselves a drink and have a proper, grown-up discussion about the whole thing.' Naomi nodded at Emily's eminently sensible suggestion and they walked down the stairs hand in hand, each glad that this unplanned, impromptu stand-off was finally at an end.

Back at the police station DI Straw and DS Blunt were sitting in Straw's generously proportioned office chewing over the fat of their visit to Naomi and Emily's place. The murder team had been given their assignments and variously were out and about town, doing the bog standard house-to-house interviews, forensic examinations, computer database checks and the like. Straw liked to take time out to stand back a bit from all the action and try to get a hold on the big picture. He was a firm believer in thinking outside the box, as common parlance had it, in trying to look at a case from the psychological angle. He also liked having a colleague to bounce ideas off and he viewed DS Blunt as a perfect foil for him, especially as she knew the two girls from a previous investigation.

'So tell me, what did you make of what those two girls had to say?'

DS Blunt considered her governor's question and answered confidently and without mincing her words.

'They're definitely holding something back, I'm sure of it. Whether it has anything to do with this murder I don't know but they're not telling us the whole truth, I'd swear to it.'

'What did you make of them when you interviewed them over that other girl's….what was her name?'

'Sophia Moore.'

'That's right, Sophia Moore's death last year?'

'Same thing actually. I didn't think that they were telling me the whole truth then and I don't think they are now either. But we couldn't prove that they had anything to do with Sophia's death and besides, we caught the person who sold her the MDMA which we found traces off in her blood.'

DI Straw leaned back in his chair, contemplated the ceiling with studious concentration and sighed with an audible note of frustration. 'Ah yes, that would have been a certain Mr James Cook of this parish, wouldn't it?'

'Yeah, that's right,' replied DS Blunt with a resigned smile. 'He rather inconveniently escaped from custody and has been on the run ever since.'

'I seem to remember you got a tip off that he'd been holed up at the girls' house?'

'That's right, we did. But when we turned up there was no sign of him. There were plenty of other kids there, of course. This Naomi seems to have turned her place into some sort of general doss house for all her weird and wacky friends so he may very well have stayed there for a while but if he had, he'd legged it by the time we turned the place over.'

'So our two lovebirds could potentially face charges of harbouring a wanted criminal as well as giving false statements, then? I take it they are…..um… you know….. _an item_, I think it's called nowadays?'

'Yes, I think we can assume that, don't you? Judging by the way they were with each other when we were questioning them. A pretty close couple, as well, I'd suggest.'

'Close enough to lie for each other, then?'

'Oh definitely,' nodded Blunt. She was convinced that both girls had something to hide and would lie through their teeth to the police to protect each other and keep their relationship safe and secure. 'I just don't know _what _it is they're lying about. I mean, if they have an idea who might have sent Naomi the photo and the note, why wouldn't they tell us for Christ's sake?'

'Well, we'd better keep them under constant surveillance for now. If this killer does have a reason for targeting Miss Campbell which both of them know about but have decided they're not going to tell us, then we might have to get a bit heavy with them and scare them into saying what it is. Assuming they don't _want t_o become this guy's next victim, of course.'

'I still think you ought to tell the police about Matt, Naoms. What if it is him?'

Emily was still gently trying to persuade Naomi to do the right thing and admit that she had lied about not knowing Sophia. They were both much calmer now than earlier. The alcohol they had been consuming since going back downstairs had succeeded in loosening their nervous tension and they were back to being a loving couple again, each prepared to do anything for the other. Not that they still didn't have a different opinion on the matter of confessing all to the police.

'We can't do that, Ems, I've told you before. We've already lied to the police _three_ times now in formal interviews. They'd throw the book at us for sure. What do they call it – making false statements to the police during an investigation or something like that?'

Naomi's knowledge of criminal law was only sketchy at best but she was damned sure that they would both be in big trouble if it was discovered that they had lied to the police. She still felt horrendously guilty from time to time about what she had put Emily through with the whole Sophia business. She couldn't bear the thought of going the extra mile and being responsible for getting Emily up on a police charge along with her for deceiving the police during an official murder investigation.

'Besides, like I said before, there's no way Matt could be this psycho killer. He simply isn't that kind of guy.'

Emily prayed fervently that Naomi was right but deep down she couldn't see how she could know that for sure. 'We just don't know that, Naoms. He's lost his sister and he was really badly affected by it. He thought the world of her. I know she killed herself, we didn't push her or persuade her to jump but her mind must have been pretty fucked up to do what she did and he's bound to blame you for that….and maybe me, as well.'

'But can you _really _see him killing an innocent girl just to be able to scare the shit out of me?' Naomi heard what Emily was saying about Sophia and in her heart of hearts couldn't disagree with her assessment of Matt's state of mind and the likelihood of him wanting to blame her for his sister's death. But she just couldn't see him going about revenge in this way. She saw matt as a fairly uncomplicated sort of guy. He would have gone for her and not involved anyone else, surely!

'Who knows what people are really capable of, Naoms? I wouldn't have imagined I could ever lie to the police but….well, we have, haven't we?'

'Only to protect ourselves, though. We didn't deliberately mislead them. I don't think Matt's got anything to do with this, anyway, so it shouldn't matter in the end. I just don't want them raking up the whole Sophia thing all over again. I want it to stay firmly in the past. I don't want to even _think _about her ever again, Ems. Let's just concentrate on you and me, okay? That's all that matters to me now.'

Emily gave a small sigh of resignation as she realised that Naomi was not going to change her mind on this issue, not for the moment at any rate. She hadn't completely given up hope of persuading her to change her mind but she would have to leave any further attempts to another, more favourable time. Naomi's mind was clearly made up. This particular Iron Lady was not for turning!

They decided they would try to cheer themselves up a little by going shopping for some new clothes for their trip to Goa which was only now a couple of weeks away. They grabbed their bags and hurried outside, passing their guardian angel PC Kevin on the way. They were relieved to be out in the open air and away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of their house which increasingly seemed to have taken on the air of a prison cell during the last twenty-four hours rather than the idyllic love-nest that it used to be only a day or two ago.

The entire murder team had been called in to the incident room by DI Straw for a recap on where they had got to with the case. Straw stood at the front of the room by the incident board on which DS Blunt had already pinned up photos of the dead girl and had written up all the basic details they had been able to find out about her so far. Blunt had also written the names of Naomi Campbell and Emily Fitch on the board and had drawn lines connecting them with the dead girl, with a couple of large question marks to indicate their uncertainty as to the two girls' precise relationship to the murdered girl.

'Listen up, everyone!' shouted Straw, striving to make himself heard above the general indistinct murmuring that was filling the room. 'Let's see what we've got here, then. The murder victim is a Michelle Read, twenty years old, a receptionist at a firm of solicitors in the city centre called Marshall & Co. She was found at eight o'clock last night, dumped in the woods near Roundview College, by a Mr Roberts who was out walking his dog.'

'Why is it always some poor bastard walking his dog who finds all the dead bodies?' asked DC Sweeney casually of no-one in particular.

'Probably because it's the dog that can smell the corpses, Sweeney.' DS Blunt turned a withering look of pity on the Bristol Rovers supporting detective constable and made it clear from her expression that fatuous comments such as his were not welcome or appropriate in the middle of a murder investigation..

'Michelle had been stabbed six times, probably with a very sharp, long kitchen knife. The pathologist who examined the body last night estimated her time of death as being between thirty-six and forty-eight hours before her body was discovered. What do we know about the dead girl? Sweeney!'

DC Sweeney consulted his note book carefully for a few seconds before looking up and answering DI Straw's question.

'Not a great deal, so far, gov. She'd been working at the solicitors for three years since she left school. According to the people at the office I spoke to she was a very friendly, popular girl who got on with everyone.'

'Any boyfriends?

'No-one special, it seems. No regular boyfriend, at least. According to her parents she liked going out clubbing with her old school friends a lot. She was always in some club or other at the weekends.'

'So, no ex-boyfriend whom she might have dumped recently and didn't take it very well?'

'Not as far as we know, gov.' DC Sweeney looked across anxiously at DI Straw, worried that his boss might not be too impressed that his enquiries hadn't been able to uncover a string of possible suspects and motives already. He breathed an inward sigh of relief when he saw Straw merely nod at him in silent acknowledgement of this rather vague and unhelpful piece of background information on the dead girl.

'Still, these clubs would seem to be a likely place for the killer to have met her or try to pick her up,' suggested DS Blunt who was the last person one could have imagined strutting her stuff on the dance floor at some fashionable nightclub.

'Quite possibly,' agreed DS Straw. 'Go and visit all the clubs in town and show the dead girls' picture around. See if any of the club owners or bar staff recognise her or remember having seen her recently. We need to find out as much as we can about our victim. Talk again to her work colleagues, her family, her friends, everyone who knew her at all.'

'Right, gov.' Blunt nodded and gestured over to Sweeney to get the ball rolling on that line of enquiry.

'Now, this killer may have also sent a photograph of the dead girl and a cryptic threatening note to _this_ girl, Naomi Campbell.' Straw pointed to Naomi's name on the board next to which were copies of the photo and the note. 'We don't know for certain that he did but at this stage it seems highly likely that it was the same person. Now, why should he do that? What connection might Naomi have with either the dead girl or our killer? '

'We need to find out all we can about Naomi and her girlfriend Emily Fitch whom she lives with.' A few sniggers and gentle whoops rang out around the room which Blunt was quick to pounce on. 'Shut it, you bunch of tossers! Any more of that and I'll have you all back out on the streets directing traffic!'

'We need to find any possible connection between our murder victim and this Naomi Campbell. She says she's never seen Michelle Read before and can't think of anyone who would want to send her these things. But we're not convinced she's telling the truth. She must know something otherwise why would our guy have wanted to frighten the life out of her like that?' Come on, then! Let's get out there again and dig up everything you can find!'

The team began to disperse to be allocated their various assignments while Straw and Blunt got together to ponder what their next course of action should be.

Naomi, Emily, Katie and Effy sat round the large table outside the café and waited for their order to be brought out to them. By a happy coincidence the four of them had bumped into each other in town while the two pairs of girls were out shopping separately and had made an easy decision to have lunch together. Katie had obviously filled Effy in on the shocking events of the past twenty-four hours as Effy's face betrayed her concern and anxiety for Naomi and Emily.

'Who the hell could be doing this to you?' she asked, utterly perplexed, 'and why?'

'No idea, Effy,' replied Naomi, as she took another swig from her glass. 'I just hope the police catch him soon before either of us has a nervous breakdown.'

'And Katie thinks she's being followed as well,' Emily reminded the others. 'Have you had the feeling you've been followed today?'

'Not so far,' Katie said, instinctively looking nervously around her as she spoke. 'But it definitely felt like I was being followed the other night. No doubt about it. It's a horrible, frightening idea to think that some sick weirdo might be watching your every move.'

'Do you think it's the same guy who….?'Effy's voice tailed off as she realised that what she was thinking out loud was hardly going to calm the nerves around the table, so she rapidly changed the subject.

As the four girls gratefully moved onto more pleasant and less painful topics of conversation, some thirty yards away, on the other side of the pedestrian precinct where all the cafes and trendy restaurants were situated and to where the whole city flocked of a lunchtime, a figure was sitting at a table on his own, drinking a cup of coffee and ostensibly reading a newspaper. Except that he wasn't really reading the paper very much at all. In fact he'd read the same paragraph four or five times over the course of the last quarter of an hour, so engrossed was he in watching the group of four attractive young girls sitting diagonally across from him on the other side.

His face was half concealed by a baseball cap that was pulled well down to protect his eyes from the bright sun that was beating down on the crowds of people who were lunching that day. His super-strength sunglasses afforded him an extra layer of maximum protection but this was possibly as much to do with not being recognised as to shield himself from the potentially harmful rays of the sun. He looked up from his disinterested scanning of his newspaper from time to time and glanced over in the direction of the four girls, pausing to fix his steely gaze on each of them in turn before coming to rest on one of them in particular and lingering over her with a certain relish which he couldn't help but betray with an involuntary smile.

As he sat there calmly observing from a safe distance the animated conversation of the four attractive young girls, he drummed his fingertips on the table in front of him and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as if impatient for things to develop the way he wanted them to. But, if truth be told, he had all the time in the world on his hands. He didn't have to be anywhere else; he could cheerfully sit there all afternoon drinking coffee and people watching if he wanted to. Well, specifically _a _person watching, to be more accurate. He didn't give a monkey's about the rest of the vast crowd who were passing him by on their way to god knows where or who were sitting down drinking and eating at the dozens of other tables in his line of vision.

He was in his own little world, totally focused on the party of four opposite him who were blissfully unaware of his nearby presence. He was happy and willing to wait all afternoon if need be, but whenever they would finally decide it was time to move on he would be up on his feet and on their tail immediately, although following at a discreet distance of course. Eventually they were bound to find out who he was, what he was doing and why he was so interested in them but that was for another day. That was for later on. Much, much later, he thought, smiling wickedly to himself. He wasn't anywhere near ready to show himself just yet.

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

I would just like to say a big thank you to everyone who has been following the story so far and to those of you have been kind enough to leave a review. I am extremely grateful for all your comments and I hope I can continue to entertain you in the chapters ahead. Your support is much appreciated and acts as a huge motivation to keep on writing, especially when the going gets tough, as it can do from time to time!


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

Previously on Photo Finish: Emily and Naomi make up but Emily fails to persuade Naomi to come clean to the police about knowing Sophia. The police step up their investigations to include keeping Naomi under constant watch and consider questioning her again. Naomi and Emily have lunch with Katie and Effy, not realising the four of them are being closely observed by a mystery person from a distance.

Author's Message

This chapter is the first of a 'two-parter' with chapter seven and focuses on the Saturday morning and afternoon a couple of days after the last chapter. Chapter seven will move on to somewhat 'darker' events during the evening. I hope you enjoy both parts of a very Naomily filled 'double-header'! All reviews will be most welcome.

**CHAPTER SIX: THE GREAT ESCAPE**

Naomi stretched out her long right leg and playfully rubbed Emily on the nose with her wet, soapy, big toe causing the redhead at the other end of the bath to open her eyes, squeal, start giggling and then attempt to grab hold of Naomi's toe in retaliation. But the blonde was too quick for Emily and had already hurriedly withdrawn her foot back under the water by the time her girlfriend had thought of getting revenge on Naomi for giving her an unexpectedly soapy nose.

Having failed in her ambitious attempt to grab hold of Naomi's foot, Emily contented herself with splashing a whole load of bathwater across at the blonde and, much to her triumphant glee, succeeded in scoring a few direct hits which left soap suds streaming down a screaming Naomi's face. Being a naturally competitive girl who always gave as good as she got, Naomi felt compelled to respond in kind and within seconds all-out war had been declared between the two girls. Water flew everywhere: the walls, the bathroom floor, even the windows as both girls splashed furiously at each other, despite being almost doubled up in hysterical laughter.

It had been at least a couple of days since they had enjoyed such an intimate moment of shared fun and laughter as this. Recent events had seemed to have put an unwelcome dampener on their normally madcap, passionate and fun-filled relationship. But when Emily had decided half an hour ago in a moment of inspired spontaneity to rip off her clothes and jump into the bath and join Naomi in the luxurious decadence of a long, peaceful, hot soak, Naomi couldn't contain her delight and relief. She had begun to worry that the shadow of menace and uncertainty under which they had been living during the last forty-eight hours was threatening to dim the bright lights of their relationship Here now was proof positive that it was still as fresh and strong as ever, even if it was being tested to the limits by unknown, unseen outside forces.

The two girls fell silent for a while once they had eventually calmed down after their boisterously playful water fight until the peaceful calm was broken by Naomi.

'Ems, the way I see it, we've got two options,' said Naomi, confidently and Emily looked up at her full of anticipation and curiosity. 'What?' she asked.

'Well, we can stay cooped up in this house for the rest of our lives, terrified to set foot outside it and just calmly wait for some axe-wielding psychotic killer to murder us in our beds.'

Emily wrinkled her nose and pulled a face to indicate that Naomi's first suggestion didn't sound like a particularly attractive proposition for the remainder of their summer holidays. 'Not great,' she said. 'What's the second option?'

'We say 'fuck it!' We're not going to let this thing ruin our lives, we're going stick two fingers up at the rest of the world and just do our own thing as normal. Que sera sera, Ems. What sort of fucking way to live is this, for Christ's sake?'

'Okay,' nodded Emily, though not with quite the same air of assurance and bravado as her more fiery and headstrong girlfriend. 'What have you got in mind?'

'Let's go out for the day, Ems,' said Naomi. 'I need to get out of this house and I think we deserve a bit of quality time on our own, don't you?'

'That would be heaven,' agreed Emily, as she snuggled up to Naomi who had put her arms around the redhead's neck and pulled her right up close to her. 'But how do we get to be really on our own when we've got a copper on our tail the whole time?'

It hadn't taken the girls long to pick up the fact that everywhere they went outside the house they were being discreetly followed by a plain-clothes policeman, presumably a member of DI Straw's team, they had deduced. It wasn't as if he was breathing right down their necks, of course. He couldn't hear their private conversations or anything like that. He was always twenty or thirty yards behind them, usually on the opposite side of the road .but nonetheless it was making it difficult for the girls to relax and truly be themselves together whenever they left the house. There had been little or no hand-holding, let alone hugging and kissing in the streets since they had first clocked the guy tailing them. They agreed that both of them felt somewhat inhibited and suffocated by his constant watchful presence.

'I've had an idea about that,' smiled Naomi, with a wicked twinkle in her eye. 'I think we can lose our shadow today, especially with it being Saturday. I mean, there's bound to be more people out and about so that gives us a better chance of doing a runner on him.'

'I….. suppose it's worth a try,' said Emily, . 'But he _is _supposed to be keeping an eye on us for our own safety, Naoms. I still don't like the idea of us wandering around town on our own with that maniac still on the loose. He could be following us as well, couldn't he, waiting for the right moment to strike?'

Emily's brown eyes were clouded in fear and apprehension as she turned them towards Naomi, who smiled to see such genuine concern on Emily's face and kissed her softly on the cheek to reassure her everything would be alright.

'It's okay, Ems. Trust me! This psycho, whoever he is, isn't going to approach us in broad daylight and try to kill us, is he? Not with loads of people around. Come on! He may be a fully-certified, twenty-four carat maniac, but he's no fool. He isn't stupid enough to try to kill me, you or anyone else in front of hundreds of witnesses who might be able to give the police a description of him, is he?'

'I suppose not.' Emily reluctantly had to accept the logic of Naomi's argument and relaxed a little, as she lay back against the blonde's warm, comforting and always sensuous body. Gradually she warmed to the idea of the pair of them getting away from it all and spending some much needed time on their own without the constant, nagging feeling that someone was never very far away, always watching their every move and gesture.

It was approaching half-past twelve when the girls poured the last gulp of coffee down their parched throats and finished the final mouthful of their brunch which they had decided to treat themselves to in their favourite greasy-spoon café. Naomi casually glanced out of the window and noted that their police tail was still in the same position he had been in for the last half an hour, leaning up against a bus stop on the other side of the road, looking extremely bored and pretending to read a newspaper whilst waiting for a bus.

'He's still there,' she said to Emily. 'Now's our chance, I reckon. Just do exactly what we planned this morning, okay? You go to the toilet and stay there and I'll join you in a minute when I've finished paying.'

'Are you sure this is going to work?' asked a rather uncertain Emily, not wholly convinced by Naomi's master plan which she had explained on the way over to the café.

'Have you got a better idea, Ems?'

Emily shook her head and realised that she had no option but to go along with it. She got to her feet, picked up her bag and slung it across her shoulder and walked slowly past the counter and headed towards the back of the café where the toilets were situated. Naomi watched her go and when Emily reached the door to the ladies and stopped to look back at Naomi the blonde motioned furiously with her eyes and with a slight but unmistakeable gesture of her head for the redhead to go inside the toilet. As soon as Emily had disappeared through the door Naomi stood up, picked up her bag and approached the counter, having already taken the money out of her purse in readiness of paying the bill. As she stood in front of the till, impatiently waiting for her change, she surreptitiously looked out of the corner of her eyes over towards the street outside. She wanted to check that the plain-clothes copper was still in the same place and hadn't crossed the road to keep a closer eye on what they were doing. He was and Naomi breathed a small sigh of relief.

As soon as she was given her change she practically threw it into her bag anywhere, then walked swiftly down towards the ladies and passed inside. Emily was standing in the middle of an empty restroom anxiously waiting for her.

'Come on,' said Naomi with a note of urgency in her voice, 'we haven't got much time before he notices we haven't come out!

She climbed up onto the window sill and began to wriggle her way expertly out of the window which Emily had already opened when she had entered the ladies on Naomi's strict instructions. Within seconds the lithe, supple tall blonde had crawled out of the window and had jumped down onto the path below which backed onto the café. She then held her arms up and whispered up at Emily to follow suit and, albeit a little nervously, and without quite the same athletic prowess shown by her girlfriend , thirty seconds later both girls had successfully climbed their way out of the ladies and into the lane behind the café. Now they could make their escape and they duly fled down the path, unable quite to hold back a few excited squeals and giggles as they did so. Neither of them dared to look back behind them, in case they should catch sight of an angry looking policeman hotly in pursuit.

They didn't stop running until they were about a hundred yards away from the café and at the next bus stop up the route from where their police protector had been observing them previously. Fortunately the bus which Naomi had planned on them catching was miraculously on time for once and they jumped on it in undisguised relief and joy, still giggling uncontrollably at the unexpectedly easy success of their hastily concocted plan to break for freedom.

One short bus ride and a half hour train journey was all it took for the girls to have left the city of Bristol and all the terror and danger it seemed to pose them far behind. They had sought refuge and solace in the calm of the Bristol countryside and were lapping up the opportunity to be themselves again for the first time in days. They had found a delightful little village to explore, browsing around the quaint local shops and walking hand in hand along the side streets, laughing and smiling like there was no tomorrow, which in truth they knew deep down neither of them could say with any certainty that there would be for them.

They had found a gorgeous little tea shop at the end of the main high street and settled down to a pot of afternoon tea and a veritable orgy of scones with jam and cream, chocolate cake and an alarming array of sandwiches which they had attacked with gusto, despite having devoured a full English brunch only a few hours before.

'Jesus! We've eaten like pigs today,' remarked Emily with a touch of embarrassment in her voice as she forced down the last few crumbs of her third scone.

'I know,' said Naomi with a giggle and a huge smile. 'I think being shit scared must increase your appetite. I mean, when a homicidal maniac is gunning for you, you don't know when your last meal is going to be so you might as well cram everything down your gob while you can!'

Emily laughed despite the appalling gravity of Naomi's words which struck a terrifying chord in her head.

'Don't let's mention _him_ again, please, Naoms. I just want to forget all about that stuff for the rest of the day and enjoy ourselves. This will probably be the last time we get to spend some time on our own. The police will probably put two or three of their men on us after today so let's not waste these moments together.'

Naomi heard the note of desperate pleading in Emily's voice and reached out a hand across the table and gently stroked the redhead's hair and traced her fingertips along the side of her face.

'Okay, sweetheart,' she said softly and leaned forward to kiss Emily on the lips, not bothering to check if anyone was watching them this time. She lingered for a few seconds to suck lightly on Emily's bottom lip, causing Emily to utter a low murmur of pleasure before pulling back slightly and quickly looking around the room, a touch unsure whether a country village tea shop was quite the right place to engage in some serious foreplay.

'If you're done, let's go out into the garden and sunbathe for a while,' suggested Naomi with a wink and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Emily nodded enthusiastically and soon the two girls were stretched out in a quiet corner of the tea shop back garden, carrying on from where they had tactfully left off inside the tea room. No-one else had thought to take advantage of the glorious late summer warm weather to lie out in the sun, for which the girls were very grateful. No couple likes competition at close quarters when they are in a romantic mood.

As they lay there, basking in the glow of both the hot sun and their own passionate embraces, a beautiful thought suddenly ran through Emily's mind which almost immediately was translated out loud into words before she had time to stop herself and ask if this was really the time or the place to say it.

'Don't you think Goa would be the most heavenly, romantic setting to get married?'

Naomi sat bolt upright on hearing Emily's question, delivered so wistfully and innocently, and stared down at the redhead with an expression of utter astonishment, although not, it has to be said, with a look of irritation as well.

'Emily Fitch! I don't believe it! Are you proposing to me?'

Emily blushed hugely and tried to answer but all that came out initially was an embarrassing, spluttering stammer.

'Um…..yes, I mean ….no…. um….I mean…not…um…..oh, Jesus! What have I said? I'm sorry, I didn't mean….'

'Could you be a little less clear on that, perhaps?' Naomi's expression had progressed from one of total surprise to one of amusement at Emily's floundering and her laughable attempts to cover up her obvious embarrassment.

'I mean, no! I wasn't proposing, I was just thinking out loud that I bet a lot of couples do get married when they're out there because it's such a beautiful, romantic place. Besides, I would never propose to you. You're the one who should propose to me!'

'What! I beg your pardon? What are you trying to say, Ems?' Naomi affected a tone of mock outrage and pounced on the redhead without warning, pinning her to the ground and tickling her all over which had the redhead, whom Naomi naturally knew from past experience to be a particularly ticklish person, in a screaming fit of giggles. Naomi showed no mercy however and was tickling her everywhere, her stomach, her bare legs, up around her thighs and the back of her neck until Emily was pleading for forgiveness and begging her to stop.

'Are you trying to suggest I'm the _man _in this relationship? Eh? Is that what you're saying? That it's _my_ duty to propose to you, not the other way round? Come on, admit it! You think I'm a guy, don't you?'

'No! No! I don't. Please stop, please stop, it's killing me! I don't think you're a man, honest.'

Eventually Naomi took pity on Emily, deciding she had probably suffered enough at her expert hands for one afternoon, and stopped tickling her, allowing her to break free from her clutches and pull back laughing and breathing heavily with all their playful exertions.

'Mind you, you _are_ the bossy one, aren't you? You're always ordering me about and telling me what to do so maybe….'

Emily jumped to her feet and started running away, letting out several high-pitched squeals again, having caught sight of Naomi's look of genuine, open-mouthed outrage this time. The blonde chased the redhead put of the garden and down the road, soon catching up with her and smacking her playfully on the backside.

'Come on then, wife! Back to the kitchen with you. How dare you cheek me and answer me back. It's time you realised who wears the trousers in this marriage!'


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi decides she can't face being a prisoner in her own house indefinitely and persuades Emily they should attempt to lead a normal life again. They succeed in losing their police protection and escape to the countryside for the afternoon for some quality girlfriend time on their own. Meanwhile the hunt for a killer continues.

.-

Author's Message

This chapter is the second of a 'two-parter' and focuses on the Saturday evening and the early hours of Sunday morning after Naomi & Emily's jaunt into the countryside. I hope you enjoy the second instalment of this Naomily 'double-header'! All reviews will be most welcome.

**CHAPTER SEVEN: TAKING LIVES**

It was gone eight o'clock when Naomi and Emily arrived back in town after their much needed break for freedom into the Bristol countryside. They briefly wondered if their police protection might be waiting for them outside the station but to their relief their tail was nowhere to be seen, at least as far as they could make out. Clearly they still had a bit more time to enjoy themselves on their own before the shit hit the fan, as they suspected it would do.

As they hung around outside the station, unsure what their next move would be, Emily's phone bleeped and, after a cursory glance, she reluctantly took the call. She mouthed 'Katie' at Naomi and the blonde pulled a face as she put an arm around Emily's shoulder and leaned in to eavesdrop on the conversation.

'Hi,' said Emily. 'What's up?'

'That's what I want to know, you idiot! Where the fuck are you? Don't you realise you've had half the local police force searching for the pair of you this afternoon?'

The girls exchanged half-guilty looks and Naomi bit her bottom lip and made a gesture across her throat with one finger to indicate that they were going to be for the high jump when the police finally caught up with them.

'Have they? Jesus! We only wanted a bit of time on our own without being followed and watched every fucking minute. You don't know what it's like not being able to move a muscle without some guy clocking you all the time. It's not nice, you know.'

'Er..tell me about it, Emsy. I know just what it's like, actually. I've still got the feeling some bastard's following me around. At least in your case it's a policeman keeping close tabs on you for your own safety! For all we know it could be this fucking psycho killer following _me_ around!' Effy's been having the same feeling of being followed as well!'

Katie's steadily rising voice and tone of barely concealed hysteria made Emily silent for a while as she realised that her sister sounded genuinely worried and afraid, though it was hard to tell whether she was anxious for Emily's safety or her own. Naomi sighed heavily and looked up to the heavens in exasperation. There wasn't much doubt in her mind who Katie was more concerned about.

'Okay, okay, I hear you. Well, you can tell the police that we're fine. Nobody's tried to murder us in cold blood in broad daylight, even without Mr Plod stepping on our toes the whole afternoon.'

'Well, it was still a bloody stupid thing to do. The cops aren't very happy, as you can imagine. Where are you now?'

'We're at the station. We're probably going to chill out in town for a few more hours before going home. Do you want to meet up somewhere later on?'

Katie's mood appeared to have mellowed a little after her initial outburst and her tone was rather more conciliatory as she suggested they meet up at the club around ten o'clock where she had planned to join up with Effy, JJ and Lara. Emily readily agreed, relieved that Katie had finally calmed down and given up her elder sister bossy boots act at last.

'So, what now?' she asked Naomi, putting her phone back in her bag. 'We've got a couple of hours to kill.'

Naomi pursed her lips in silent contemplation for a while before smiling. 'Why don't we try out that new Goan restaurant that opened up last week? We might as well get into the swing of India before we leave.'

'Good idea,' said an excited Emily, linking arms with the blonde as they started walking in the direction of the city centre. 'But don't you _dare_ order anything really hot. I don't want to be up all night on the bog again like last time.'

'As if I would do such a thing!' replied Naomi, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She visibly struggled to hold back a mischievous snigger as vivid memories of the aftermath of their last Indian meal came flooding back This time however she had no desire to be up half the night playing Florence Nightingale nursing a sick as a dog Emily suffering with a severe case of Delhi Belly.

Twenty minutes later the two girls were approaching their destination when, as they turned the final corner into the street where the restaurant was situated, they literally bumped into a man who was walking briskly round the corner in their direction. The three of them just managed to pull up short in time to avoid knocking each other off their feet. As they all gathered their breath and recovered from the near miss it was with considerable dismay and discomfort that Naomi recognised the familiar voice of the man apologising to them, even before she had taken a look at his face.

'Kieran!' said Naomi as she looked up nervously and with a degree of irritation at her mother's ex-boyfriend. He would have been one of the last people she would have wanted to bump into in the street unexpectedly. They hadn't spoken or even met since the last memorable occasion she had seen him a month back when she had caught him in a seriously compromising position with another woman in an out of town pub which she had dived into one day with a raging thirst.

She had stormed off in a blind fury, saddened with immense disappointment at him and, after much soul-searching in quiet solitude, had reluctantly confessed to her mother what she had walked in on. Normally Naomi's first inclination would have been to stay out of such a situation and not get involved. But this wasn't just anyone who was being deceived. This was her mother and that made it different. She couldn't bear to stand by and do nothing while Kieran was carrying on with another woman behind her mother's back. Both she and her mother had suffered years of heartache and misery from one man's constant infidelities. She wasn't prepared to let it happen again.

Gina had wasted no time in confronting an embarrassed, sheepish yet painfully remorseful Kieran who admitted to the deception which instantly put the coffin lid on his previously joyous relationship with Gina. Naomi hadn't seen him since Gina had tearfully kicked him out of the house. Now here he was, standing before her, apologising once more, albeit on this occasion for a slightly less serious misdemeanour than infidelity.

'Naomi!' Kieran appeared equally surprised at their chance meeting. 'Um…..Jesus Christ! Um…' His open-mouthed expression betrayed his loss for words until he miraculously recovered the power of speech. 'This is a surprise. How are you?'

'I'm okay,' said a surly Naomi, refusing to smile politely at him or return his kind enquiries into her state of health with anything other than an unfriendly glare and a stiff upper lip.

'I haven't seen you since…..well, you know.'

'Since my Mum kicked your arse out for shagging another woman?' Naomi finished the sentence off for him though it is doubtful Kieran would have put it in quite such a delightful and brutally honest fashion.

'Yes.' Kieran looked down at the ground, unable to hold Naomi's accusing stare.. After a great effort of self-will he forced himself to look up at her and attempted to recover some dignity and above all some respect in her eyes.

'I was an arsehole, I know. I got what I deserved.'

'Yeah, you were and you did' Naomi didn't see the need to pin any medals on him for admitting the truth and stating the bleeding obvious. She was still livid and, more than that, so bitterly disappointed in him. She had thought he was better than that.

'I just wish you had given me a chance to put things right before going to your Mum. Why couldn't you wait until I had seen her and explained…..'

'There was fuck all to explain, Kieran. I did that for you. I saved you the trouble and embarrassment of telling her yourself. I did your dirty work for you. You should have been grateful, not resentful!'

As Kieran stood there in silence, looking down at the ground again, Emily slipped a comforting hand into Naomi's and clasped her fingers tightly to give her moral support. A thought came into Naomi's mind which her natural instinct was to dismiss immediately as ludicrous. She observed her former politics teacher closely for a while and noted his hangdog expression and suitably crushed demeanour.

'Come on, Ems. We mustn't waste time talking to the likes of him. I'm hungry.' With a final dismissive and contemptuous stare at the poor, mortified Kieran, Naomi dragged Emily away by the hand and the two girls headed for the restaurant up ahead.

Katie stood at the bar, impatiently drumming her fingers on the bar top waiting for the barman to bring her the rest of her drinks order. Why did they _never_ seem to have enough bar staff at this club, she fumed silently. She turned her head towards the dance floor and could just about make out Naomi, Emily and the others on the edge of the massed throng of party revellers shaking their bodies to the pulsating rhythm of the beat. Naomi caught her eye and started making hand gestures around her throat, suggesting that if Katie didn't come back soon with some more booze she just might die of thirst. Katie nodded behind her towards the bar and rolled her eyes to indicate that it wasn't her fault that they only had one man and his dog serving that evening.

Finally the drinks were brought to her by a visibly harassed barman who took her money and, with more promptness than he had shown in serving her, gave her the change from the ten pound note she had offered up. Katie gathered up the remaining drinks in her hands and moved smartly away from the bar, heading for the others. She had barely taken three or four steps when she collided with a young couple who were boisterously heading over to the bar. The inevitable happened. Katie dropped the drinks onto the floor, broken glass smashed and alcohol spilled out everywhere, some of it all over her top and she let out a high-pitched scream of frustration and anger.

'You fucking tossers! Why don't you look where you're going?' she cried out, eyes blazing and lips curled back in fury as the guilty parties stood helplessly watching the damage they had unwittingly caused. But when Katie recognised who it was that had so ill-advisedly bumped into her and spilled her drinks, her anger only intensified to boiling point.

'Jesus Christ! I might have fucking known it would be you, you wanker!'

Sam looked at Katie with considerable nervousness borne out of long memories of Katie's unpredictable fits of rage and violent mood swings and swallowed hard before replying sheepishly.

'Hi, Katie. I'm sorry about that. It was all my fault. Hey, look, I'll get you some more drinks. What were you on?'

Katie gave Sam the new order and stood there, still seething and smouldering as she attempted a bit of a botched job in wiping away the alcohol that had spilt over her expensively new top. As she did so she looked across at Sam's companion whom he had left standing idly by, suitably embarrassed and chastened by Katie's volcanic eruption. Naomi and Emily must have seen the accident happen from where they were dancing because they had joined Katie by the time she had condescended to speak to the young girl.

'Don't I know you from somewhere?' Katie asked.

'Um, possibly,' replied the young girl with long dark hair. 'You do look familiar but I can't remember where I've seen you before.'

'**OH MY GOD!**' Naomi had recognised the girl as soon as she had caught a good look at her face and burst out laughing. 'As I live and breathe. Look who it is!'

'Christ, it's you, isn't it? You're the girl whose house I stayed at that night when I copped off with Cook.'

'I think Naomi's the name you're desperately searching for,' said Naomi with a withering look at Arcia

'That's right. It _was_ Naomi. Do you remember me? I'm Arcia.'

'Oh, yes, how can we ever forget _you_? You shopped our friend Cook to the cops, you fucking cow!'

Arcia took an involuntary step back at the sound of Naomi's threatening tone. 'The bastard just chucked me out like a piece of garbage. What was I supposed to do?'

'Well, Cook often picked up some freaky women but on that occasion I reckon he got it just about right, don't you think, girls?'

Emily and Katie nodded in agreement and turned accusing faces towards the clearly disconcerted young Arcia who was feeling extremely outnumbered, very vulnerable and more than a bit intimidated by the three girls ganging up on her. Fortunately Sam returned to save her any further distress with the replacement drinks which he handed out amongst the girls with renewed apologies.

'Sam, don't tell me you're actually going out with this piece of shit!' Katie turned a fake sweet smile on her ex who blushed furiously and could do no more than stammer a response.

'Who the hell do you think you are, calling me a piece of shit!' shouted a furious and rather inebriated Arcia and she swung an uncertain hand towards Katie's face, missing her by some distance and almost falling over in the process.

'For fuck's sake, Sam. Get this stupid tart away from here, will you, before I really lose my temper with her.' Katie was showing remarkable restraint considering the fact that she had already sunk a couple of shots herself and was itching to land one on the stupid girl.

'Come on, Arcia, let's go shall we?' Sam held out a hand to support the unsteady Arcia who was still seething with rage even if she wasn't capable of translating it into meaningful action. He gently gestured to Arcia to move away from the girls and take their leave which she started to do but turned round to spit out what was doubtless intended to be a parting shot aimed at Katie as revenge for the derogatory remarks she had made about her.

'I can see now why you dumped her, Sam. What guy in his right mind would want to go out with a potty-mouthed slut like her?'

It would not be understating the point to suggest that at the sound of those words Katie went into ballistic overdrive, sending Arcia flying with a shove and then grabbing hold of Sam and smacking him powerfully on the jaw, the connection with the side of his face sounding like the crack of a whip.

'WHAT! Did you tell this fucking cow, this face like a smacked arse that _you_ dumped me? You total bastard! You pathetic, spineless wimp!'

She turned towards a still prostrate Arcia and almost spat the words out in her face. '_He_ didn't dump me, you stupid, deluded cow! _I _dumped him. Why would he dump me? He begged me time after time to take him back but I didn't want to know. He knew he'd never find anyone as good as me ever again. And seeing how he's ended up with _you_ just about proves my point.'

Naomi and Emily moved in to close ranks quickly and bring the whole unpleasant confrontation to an end, gently pushing away a still shaken and smarting Sam and Arcia and pulling a still fuming Katie back over to where JJ and Lara, along with a sizeable proportion of the crowd of young clubbers, had been observing proceedings with increasing interest..

'Let's go outside for some fresh air. Besides, I need a smoke,' yelled Naomi, grabbing Emily by the hand and leading the redhead over towards the back exit. A minute later they were leaning up against a wall at the side of the club, puffing away on a shared cigarette and talking about the earlier incident with Sam and Arcia. Suddenly their half-whispered conversation was rudely interrupted by some strange sounds coming from further down the alley way where they were standing.

They looked at each other nervously and instinctively held on to each other as they peered down the alley, their hearts thumping, each holding their breath. It wasn't exactly pitch black in the alley way as a shaft of light from a nearby street lamp illuminated the darkness a little but it still seemed scary and uninviting nonetheless. They were on the point of moving away completely and returning to the relative safety of the club when the familiar meow of a cat made them stop and turn back. They looked at each other and edged hesitantly down the alley way, calling out 'Here, puss, puss'. They had slowly inched about halfway down when they heard an almighty crash and a black cat came tearing up the alley way and shot past them and off into the night.

'He's been in the bins searching for food,' explained Naomi, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as she spotted a wheelie bin lying on its side on the ground next to a load of black bin bags. 'He must have knocked the bin over getting out and the noise frightened him and made him fly off. Hang on a second, what the hell's that?'

She walked down the alley towards the upturned bin, ignoring Emily's pleas to come back. When she reached the bin she saw something that made her instantly freeze with fear and let out an instinctive, terrified scream. Emily tore down the passageway to join her and when she looked up at the blonde girl, her frightened eyes followed Naomi's outstretched arm which was pointing down to the ground in front of her. The contents of one of the bin bags had spilled out, probably disturbed by the scavenging black cat, and the girls could clearly make out a slender human arm, with brightly coloured painted nails, hanging loosely and lifelessly over the edge of the bag.

To their credit they didn't freak out and panic, despite the shocking nature of their discovery. They ran back into the club and told the main guy behind the bar to call the police, giving him a very brief account of what they had discovered at the back of the club. They stood waiting at the bar, holding on to each other for dear life and trying to calm down and regain their composure, but they had been badly shaken and were hugely grateful for the free drinks they were given by the bar staff to calm their nerves.

Within ten minutes the police had arrived and the party was over for the night. The music stopped and the bar was closed down as the police took control. The girls were briefly interviewed by one of the officers in a private room in the club and were then allowed to go home, having given their names and address. There was no sign of either DI Straw or DS Blunt at this particular shout for which they were extremely grateful. The last thing they wanted at that harrowing time was a stern lecture about the rank stupidity of giving their police protection the slip. They hailed a cab from outside the club, too afraid to walk home in the dark, and ten minutes later they were back at the house, where PC Kevin was conspicuous by his absence.

They locked the front door gratefully behind them and then tearfully fell into each other's arms, hugging each other tightly. They stayed like that for some time, each trying to reassure the other that everything would be all right and that these horrible things couldn't keep happening to them, that their luck would change soon enough. When they reluctantly pulled away from each other Naomi suddenly spotted a solitary letter lying on the door mat which they hadn't noticed when they had come in. She bent down to pick it up, saw that it had no postmark and so must have been hand delivered and noted that it was addressed in capitals simply to NAOMI.

Emily looked at Naomi with wild, terrified eyes and started shaking her head from side to side, begging Naomi not to open it but phone the police right away. Naomi paused for a while then grimly opened the letter and took out two now scarily familiar items, a photograph and a note with a message on it.

She looked at the photo with trembling figures and immediately put her hand to her mouth to prevent a scream coming out. Unlike the first picture which had been that of a complete stranger to her, the obviously dead young girl in this photograph was shockingly familiar. She quickly moved on to the note which was of the same format as the previous one, only this time the message read

'**SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO? HER BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS**!'

Naomi stifled a sob and passed the photo and the note silently with tearful eyes over to a by now petrified Emily who made a real effort to force herself to look at them. She gasped out loud and put her hand to her mouth from which a strangled scream was threatening to burst forth when she too recognised instantly the girl in the picture.

'Oh, my God! It's Mavis!' she cried and the tears started to flow down her cheeks as it became abundantly clear that this time the killer had chosen to strike much closer to home. Not a complete stranger any more but a fellow student of Roundview College.


	8. Chapter 8

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi has an uncomfortable moment when she and Emily run into Kieran whose involvement with another woman led to Gina throwing him out of their home. Katie literally bumps into Sam with his new girlfriend Arcia in a night club and the three of them have a massive row. Naomi and Emily discover the body of a dead girl amongst the bin bags round the back of the club. When they get home Naomi finds another parcel containing a mysterious message and a photograph of Mavis, their fellow Roundview college student, seemingly dead.

.-

**CHAPTER EIGHT: HAPPY FAMILIES**

A loud thump at the door announced that the police car had arrived to take the girls to the police station for 'further questioning' as PC Kevin so delicately described it.

'Are we being arrested?' an incredulous Naomi had asked when they had been informed of DI Straw's insistence that they make themselves available at nine o'clock the following morning.

The ever friendly and polite police constable had assured them that this was not the case but that they would be simply helping the chief investigating officer with his enquiries. When Emily pointed out that they were both still in shock, possibly even still suffering severe trauma after the evening's shocking events (Naomi nodded enthusiastically at this suggestion of Emily's and backed her girlfriend's argument with a few choice words of her own), it was explained to them in no uncertain terms that this was not a request by the police but an instruction. To refuse would almost certainly lead to them both being arrested for obstructing the police in their enquiries.

Clearly the girls had been given no choice so when they opened the front door to PC Kevin the next morning it was to be politely escorted in to the back of the car and then whisked away to the police station where only a few days ago they had turned up with the tale of their first frightening postal delivery. Now they were sitting in that same unremarkable interview room feeling very uneasy about what was to come, and with good reason, as it was to turn out. This time they were only kept waiting a minute or two before in strode a grim faced DI Straw, closely followed by an equally serious looking DS Blunt. They sat down opposite the two girls and looked at them in silence for a sort while. Emily felt her heart thumping like the clappers and she looked across at Naomi who returned her frightened glance with a worried expression of her own.

'What the fuck are you two girls playing at?' DI Straw barked out his question with all the air of a man who didn't like his valuable police time being wasted by a couple of schoolgirls playing silly buggers.

'What do you mean?' asked Naomi with as straight a bat as she could manage although she knew the deception was unconvincing as she could feel her cheeks blush with embarrassment at the DI's all too obvious anger.

'You've been lying to us, Naomi,' said DS Blunt, a little less fiercely than her colleague but still with an unsmiling manner that was succeeding in putting the wind up Emily good and proper. 'You've been keeping back vital information to do with this case, haven't you?'

Naomi looked across at DS Blunt and her mind furiously tried to work out what she might be referring to. She didn't have to wait long to find out, though, as DI Straw went on the attack.

'When we asked you if you could think of anyone who might hold a grudge against you, who might want to frighten you and harm you as revenge for something you had done, you said you couldn't think of anyone. But that was a lie, wasn't it?'

'What about Matthew Moore, Naomi?' as DS Blunt took over from her boss. Clearly the two detectives had decided that on this occasion they would be better off playing bad cop, bad cop rather than good cop, bad cop. 'Don't tell us you had completely forgotten about him? You remember, surely? The younger brother of Sophia Moore, the girl who killed herself last year and who you told us neither of you knew at all?'

'Emily didn't know her,' Naomi blurted out, desperate not to get Emily dragged into the mess that she alone had to take full responsibility for.

'But _you_ did, didn't you, Naomi? You knew her quite well, it seems. Intimately, one could even say.'

On hearing these harsh, almost mocking words from DS Blunt Naomi couldn't stop herself from bursting into tears, causing Emily to turn towards her girlfriend and put a comforting and supportive hand on her arm.

'Leave her alone!' the redhead cried, swallowing hard to hold back her own tears which she could feel were welling up behind her eyes. 'She only knew her for one day, that's all. It was nothing. That didn't make her a friend of Sophia's!'

'Look, Naomi,' said DS Blunt, injecting a slightly kinder note into her tone as she felt a twinge of sympathy for the young girls, particularly Emily. 'We know all about what happened between you and Sophia. So why didn't you tell us about Matthew? Surely you must have known how he felt about his sister's death? You must have known he would have held you responsible for Sophia's state of mind at least when she killed herself?'

'And then there's the drugs we found in her bloodstream,' added DI Straw, matter of factly.

'You know who gave her those. It wasn't either of us,' said Emily firmly, determined to stick by her girlfriend, even though she was petrified of being arrested for lying to the police.

'Yes, so it would seem. Your friend Mr James Cook confessed to having sold Sophia the drugs.' Straw looked closely at both girls, searching for any signs of guilt, any hint that they might be lying all over again and that they were involved in the drugs dealing aspect of poor Sophia's death. But if they were, they were closing ranks and putting up the shutters very firmly. Both girls returned his gaze impassively.

'Well then, you know everything now, don't you?' said Emily defiantly, putting an arm around a still tearful and thoroughly miserable and emotionally crushed Naomi.

'It can't be Matt who killed those girls and sent me their photos.' Naomi broke her silence at last to confidently put into words what she had been thinking for some time.

'Why not?' asked DI Straw intrigued for the first time that morning by something the tall, surly blonde girl had said.

'Because he just wouldn't. I know he's not like that. I mean, he might blame me for Sophia's suicide, like you said, but he wouldn't go out and kill some random girls simply to scare the life out of me like that. If he'd have wanted revenge he would have found another way of getting even.'

'He doesn't have much of an alibi for either of the times the two girls were killed,' DS Blunt stated, shaking her head to emphasise the truth of what she was staying as Naomi and Emily looked up at her with expressions of disbelief. 'He says he was at home with his mother both evenings, but she can't swear he was there all evening both nights. He was in his room, she says, but he could easily have slipped out without her knowing, killed the girls and then slipped back home without her even knowing he had left the house.'

A bewildered Naomi shook her head and looked at Emily for support and the redhead readily added her own opinion into the general mix. 'Naomi's right. I spoke with Matt a few times and I just can't see him as a suspect – not for a second. He's a nice guy who was just really upset by his sister's death. I don't believe he's a spiteful, twisted, sick kind of lad who would take revenge like this. No way!'

'So, if it isn't him, then who would be the kind of person who would do this to you?'

DI Straw still believed that the two girls, or Naomi at least, was holding back on something. 'Who else have you angered or upset so much that they would be prepared to go to these drastic lengths to frighten you and threaten to kill you?'

'I don't know,' said Naomi, her mind numb with disbelief and bewilderment at what was happening to her. 'Honestly!' she added, seeing the scepticism etched all over the DI's face.

'Think, Naomi! And you too, Emily. It _has_ to be someone you know. Why would a complete stranger send you these pictures and these messages? It simply doesn't make sense. It has to be someone who you've had a bust up with at some time in the past; someone you know who doesn't like you very much – in fact, who positively hates you.'

Naomi fell silent once more as the words of DI Straw echoed around in her head. She could certainly think of a few people who she knew wouldn't be sending her a Christmas card this year. But were any of them seriously capable of murdering two innocent young girls just to get back at her? It scarcely seemed credible. And even if it was, by some ridiculous stretch of the imagination, could she bring herself to mention their names right there and then? She doubted she had the stomach for it.

The driver of the car parked on the other side of the road some twenty yards down from the house of Effy Stonem stared intently and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as Katie Fitch came into view. He leaned forward ever so slightly and observed through his sunglasses as Katie walked up to the front door and rang the bell

A few moments later a dishevelled Effy, looking tired and drawn yet still undeniably attractive, appeared at the door, exchanged a couple of words of greeting with Katie and let her visitor into the house, closing the door behind her.

The man leaned back again and let out a sigh of frustration. He looked briefly at his watch and wondered how long it would be before the two girls left the house to do whatever it was they were planning to do on a bright Autumn Sunday morning. He switched on the radio, not because he particularly wanted to listen to some music but because he needed to fill the unbearable silence that was threatening to overwhelm him and force him to do something that he might regret later on. Above all he was becoming well and truly fed up that these two girls were always together now. They seemed to be sticking to each other like glue – it was impossible to prise them apart, so it seemed.

He put his hand into his jacket pocket and took out a mobile phone which he switched on and called up his list of contact phone numbers. After scrolling down a page or two he found the name he was searching for and his thumb lingered hesitantly over the number for a while as he debated whether to make the call or not. Eventually he decided to go ahead and pressed the number, holding the phone to his right ear as he waited for the call to be picked up. It rang five or six times before the call was answered and he took in a sharp intake of breath when he heard the familiar voice on the other end of the line speak. He closed his eyes and allowed the intoxicating sound of her voice reverberate in his head and make him feel quite giddy. He said nothing.

After a while the girl at the other end stopped saying hello and asking who it was calling her and started shouting abuse down the phone at him which made him smile to himself. He wanted to chuckle out loud but had to hold himself back for fear of his laugh being recognised, however remote a possibility that was. After the predictable torrent of abuse the girl cut him off and then he could relax, snigger away to his heart's content and fantasise about what he would like to see happen between him and the object of his affections if only he could get that other fucking pain in the arse away from his beloved.

When Naomi and Emily arrived back at the house, the parting words of DI Straw were still ringing in their ears. He had given them the severest of official bollockings. Firstly, for having lied to the police during their investigations into both Sophia's suicide and these recent killings in which he had pointed out they were so obviously implicated. Secondly, for having deliberately and recklessly slipped their police protection the day before and gone off on their own, putting themselves at risk of an attack by the unknown killer. He didn't hold back in his condemnation of their 'foolish behaviour' as he called it and made it very clear that if it should happen again, he would have no qualms about locking them both up in a police cell, as much for their own protection as a punishment for obstructing the police in their enquiries.

He had also informed them that their personal police protection would be doubled and would be around the clock, meaning that they would not be left on their own for any length of time. DC Sweeney had accompanied them in the police car and was to live in the house with them until further notice while PC Kevin continued to keep watch on the house from outside. Naomi's heart sank when DI Straw had told them the news of their live-in protection. Now not only would she and Emily not have any privacy in which to live their lives, but they would have to put up with that moronic, irritating, dickhead of a country bumpkin DC in their faces every minute of the day.

PC Kevin greeted them cheerily enough when they got out of the car and told them not to worry, he and DC Sweeney would take good care of them and that they would be as safe as houses. Emily forced a weak smile at the constable whom she liked and who was only doing his job but Naomi merely scowled at him and grunted unappreciatively. He told them that the postman had arrived with the mail but that he had taken a good look at the letters and nothing out of the ordinary had been delivered.

'Postie was a bit reluctant to let me have a look at the mail. Said that these were private letters intended only for Miss Campbell's eyes but I soon put him straight on that score. I told him I would arrest him for obstructing the police in their enquiries if he didn't hand them over to me so he soon changed his tune.'

Naomi gave an involuntary smile, despite her foul mood, at the image of her shy, quiet postman getting all flustered and nervous at the thought of being carted off down to the police station by a copper.

'He asked me what was going on but I told him it was none of his business and to get on with his job otherwise I'd have to take him in for questioning. He soon scarpered after that.'

'Oh, poor Postie,' said Emily. 'He was only concerned about us. You didn't need to get so heavy with him, he's harmless.'

'You can't be too careful, miss. This killer could be anybody, remember. Anyone who shows an interest in you two girls has to be considered a possible suspect.'

Jesus Christ! That's fucking ridiculous. Could things possibly get any worse, Naomi thought to herself as they entered the house. They had barely been back five minutes however when the answer to her despairing question came knocking with frightening inevitability at the front door.

'We've _got _to go to the police about this, Effy,' insisted Katie with firm determination. 'These anonymous phone calls have been going on long enough. And I still think someone's watching me wherever I go. The whole thing's really freaking me out.'

'Do you really think it's got something to do with whoever's been killing these girls and sending all that stuff to Naomi?' As a rule Effy's mind wasn't at its sharpest before at least eleven o'clock on any day of the week but on this Sunday morning, after a heavy night out on the razz with Katie, she was feeling particularly hung over and generally slow to put any rational thoughts together to form a coherent argument.

'Well, what else could it be, Ef? I mean, it's a bit of a bloody coincidence if it isn't, don't you think?'

'I'm way beyond thinking right now, Katie. I just wish Freddie was here to tell me what to do and what to think.'

'I know, babe,' said Katie, putting a hand on Effy's arm and giving it a consoling and affectionate squeeze. 'But he isn't it, so we'll just have to look after ourselves, won't we? '

'You don't think…?' Effy paused, as if afraid to actually say out loud the unspeakable idea that had just popped into her head.

'What?' Katie waited what seemed like an age for Effy to answer her.

'That this could all be Freddie? That he's completely freaked out because of me and he's totally lost his mind?'

'You mean do I think Freddie's going round town, killing girls, sending pictures of them to Naomi and threatening her, following me around, making anonymous phone calls to the two of us? All without any of us, without anyone at all who knows him seeing him? No, Effy, I don't.'

'Good. I don't it to be Freddie, I really don't, Katie.'

Katie smiled at her friend and wondered anxiously, not for the first time in the last few weeks, whether she would ever recover from Freddie's sudden and totally inexplicable disappearance. She was behaving more unpredictably with every passing day and Katie needed all her wits about her to ensure that the troubled young girl didn't go off the rails again. That was why she was spending most of her time with her and kept her under almost constant, yet subtle and understated supervision.

'Come on, why don't you get dressed, have some breakfast and then we'll go to the police station and tell them all about our stalker and anonymous phone caller.'

Effy nodded meekly and got up on two rather unsteady feet, wobbled slightly, and stumbled across the room to take on the rather trickier job of negotiating the stairs.

'Mum! How many more times do I have to tell you? I'm not leaving here!' Emily had to raise her voice to interrupt her mother yet again. Jenna stared furiously at her youngest daughter and let out an anguished scream of frustration at Emily's, to her frazzled and despairing mind, incomprehensible obstinacy and bloody-mindedness.

'For God's sake, Emily, do you want to get killed! Because that's' what will happen if you stay here with Naomi! She's going to get you killed!'

'Mum, when will it get through that thick skull of yours? I'm not going anywhere!'

'Hey, Emsy. Don't call your mother thick,' piped up Rob who had been quietly sitting in an armchair in the living room, keeping his head down and wisely staying well out of it while Jenna and Emily were busy scratching at each other's throats. 'She's just worried sick about you, that's all, like we all are.'

'Well, she's got a bloody funny way of showing it, Dad,' replied Emily with tears of anger threatening to roll down her quivering cheeks. 'Naomi's my girlfriend. I love her and she loves me. If she's in trouble then I want to be here with her to help her through it. Her problems are my problems, her pain and suffering is my pain and suffering. We're a couple. This is what couples do. They stick together in good times and bad times. I'm NOT coming back with you, so forget it.'

'But we can look after you. We can make sure you're alive and well until this whole thing is over. The police will catch this killer soon. Please, Emily, come back home and let the police look after Naomi. After all, she's the cause of all this, not you!'

Jenna was wringing her hands in anguish and her voice was nearly breaking up, betraying the fact that she was plainly at her wits end. She hadn't wanted to go over old ground, re-open old wounds that would only cause more arguments between her and Emily but she didn't know what else to say to persuade her daughter to seek sanctuary with them and get her away from this death trap of a house.

'Oh come on, love' said Rob, finally losing patience with Jenna. If he didn't step in, he thought, this would go on all day and he had things to do. 'Look, they've got two coppers practically living under their noses twenty-four seven now. Everywhere they go they're going to be watched by another two coppers. The busies know what they're doing, it's their job. How can we make Emily, _and_ Naomi, for that matter, feel any safer than that?'

Emily nodded and gave her father a look of appreciation and approval. 'Dad's right, Mum. We'll be fine now. The police won't let anything happen to us and we'll make sure we don't go off anywhere without them being right behind us.'

Jenna was forced to admit defeat, seeing as she was completely outnumbered by her own family, and she bent down to pick up her handbag, still crying and muttering to herself under her breath.

'Well, don't think this is the end of it, missy! Not by a long chalk. That girl has brought our family nothing but trouble and bad luck from the moment she met you. You mark my words, she'll end up in prison or in hospital or dead or Christ knows where. I just hope to God she doesn't drag you down with her. And if she does, I promise I'll come looking for her and I'll make her pay for the rest of her life.'

On that emotionally delivered and unambiguously threatening note Jenna stormed out of the room and then out through the front door, leaving an embarrassed, anxious and startled Rob Fitch to apologise to his daughter for what her Mum had said and beg her to keep in constant touch with them.

'She doesn't mean any of that. She's just worried sick about you. Please, Emsy, if she phones and leaves a message, and she will, trust me, phone her back. Okay? Let us know how you are, every day. For me, if not for your Mum?'

Emily nodded tearfully and hugged her Dad tightly, a real bear-like of a Fitch hug which almost squeezed the last drop of breath out of her body, and saw him to the door and then out of the house. As she said goodbye and gave him a forlorn little wave as he got into the car, she could see her mother sitting tight-lipped, tears streaming down her miserable face in the passenger seat, not turning her head towards the house but pointedly looking straight ahead at the road.


	9. Chapter 9

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi and Emily are questioned further by the police. They are warned not to go off on their own again and told that their police protection would be doubled and be twenty-four seven. A stranger in a parked car in the street watches Katie arrive at Effy's in the morning. Katie decides to go to the police and tell them about the anonymous phone calls and the stalker that she's convinced she's got. Jenna & Rob turn up at Naomi's house but fail to persuade Emily to come back to the safety of the Fitch family home.

.-

**CHAPTER NINE: UNINVITED GUESTS**

DI Straw drank the last few dregs of his disgusting cup of police station coffee and threw the empty plastic cup in the vague direction of the bin, barely able to raise even the briefest of self-congratulatory smiles when it flew straight in. He was in a foul mood and it wasn't the cup of tasteless, lukewarm tea that was the cause of it. They were making no headway on this case at all. The best part of a week had gone already and they still had virtually nothing to go on; no tangible leads, no genuine suspects and no clear motive.

'Blunt!' he shouted in frustration and leaned back in his chair waiting for his sergeant to come trotting in which she duly did, her face a picture of concern and nervous anticipation. She knew that when a case was going badly he usually started looking for scapegoats and she had a horrible feeling that she was standing in the firing line on this one. He motioned in silence to her to take a seat opposite him. It was time for them to reassess where they were, to take stock of all the information they had gathered so far and see if they had missed anything obvious.

'Let's go through what we've got, Blunt. We must have missed something, so let's go back to basics. What do we actually know?'

DS Blunt composed herself before she spoke, sifting rapidly in her mind the salient facts and the order in which she was going to present them to her guvnor. He liked precision and clarity in his work and had no time for wafflers.

'OK. Victim number one: Michelle Read, twenty years old, an office receptionist. Died of multiple stab wounds, found dumped in the woods near Roundview College. No evidence left by the killer, either at the scene or on the victim's body. Picture of the dead girl, probably taken shortly after the stabbing, we assume by the killer, was sent to Naomi Campbell, a former student of Roundview College, together with a cryptic note suggesting that she might be the next victim.'

DS Blunt paused for a moment to mentally check she hadn't omitted anything relevant at that point before carrying on.

'Victim number two: Mavis Riley, eighteen years old, like Miss Campbell, a former student of Roundview College. Also died of multiple stab wounds from, it would appear, the same domestic kitchen knife. Body found by Miss Campbell and her girl friend Emily Fitch in the early hours of Saturday morning amongst the bins round the back of the night club where the two girls had been that evening. Again, no forensics found at the scene. Again a photograph of the dead girl had been sent to Miss Campbell with a note claiming that she had made him do it, somehow.'

DI Straw nodded in agreement with her summing up of the salient facts of the two murders. 'So, it seems clear we have a serial killer on our hands. What do we have that connects the two victims?'

'Well, our enquiries so far haven't proved that the victims knew each other. They _may_ have both gone out clubbing at the same night clubs from time to time but we haven't found any evidence that they had met each other. They had very separate friends, lived at opposite ends of town and appear to have had little in common. They went to different schools, had different interests. We've found no connection.'

'Except that a photograph of both of them was taken by the killer and sent to Miss Naomi Campbell!' There was something in DI Straw's voice that could easily have been mistaken for a note of triumph or conceivably accusation.

'Yes. She claims not to have known Michelle but admits to knowing Mavis, although not that well.' At DI Straw's raised eyebrow of enquiry, Blunt explained further. 'Mavis wasn't in her inner circle of friends. She says she did know her, obviously, being in some of the same classes at college, but only to say hello to.'

'But clearly not a 'friend' like Miss Fitch?' Straw was trying to be tactful and sensitive but his emphasis on the word friend gave him away. He was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the world of lesbian relationships. He had never been able to get his head around them, being an inveterate dinosaur and bastion of male chauvinism.

'No,' said DS Blunt. 'But Naomi Campbell _has_ to be the link between the two killings, doesn't she, even if she claims not to have the foggiest idea why? What about this brother of the suicide girl?'

'Matthew Moore? Well, he's got no real alibi, he obviously blamed Naomi for his sister's state of mind when she killed herself – jilted one-night stand and all that – and he's certainly the type. You know, quiet, moody, introverted; the criminal psychologist's typical serial killer's profile. But…'

Blunt paused a while, pulling a face as she considered the convincing argument she had just made for going out and arresting Matt on the spot. Straw seized on her momentary hesitation. 'But what?'

'I don't know. Nothing concrete to go on but I guess I agree with Naomi. I just don't see him as the kind of guy who would go about exacting revenge on her this way. Too complicated, too messy. I see him as a fairly straight forward kid. He would simply take his anger and feelings of revenge out on her, without involving anyone else.'

DI Straw nodded slowly. He was of much the same mind as his sergeant but he didn't want to drop their only real suspect just yet, at least not until they had found someone else with as good a motive as his. His thought processes led him on to a different tack.

'We need to talk to Miss Campbell's friends some more, I think. We're not getting anything useful from her at the moment. Either she's genuinely got no idea or she's clamming up, she's in denial and doesn't want to face the truth. Who should we be speaking to, do you think?'

'Well, I reckon this kid JJ might be our best bet. He's a very close friend of the girls, especially Emily, I gather. Also, he's a bit of a nervous gabbler apparently. He panics a lot if you put him under pressure. He just might give us something that we'll never get out of the girls. They're putting up too much of a united front right now. They've closed ranks for some reason. He could be a much easier nut to crack.'

DI Straw leapt out of his chair like a man on a mission. Talking could be useful and it had its place in a murder hunt but with him actions counted for far more than words. He needed to feel he was moving forward in an investigation and he was fed up with getting nowhere on this one. It was high time he kicked some ass. If heads needed cracking, then he was in the right mood for it. 'Let's go talk nicely to JJ, then.'

DC Sweeney licked his lips one final time and gave the satisfied smile of a man who appreciated the simple contentment that a full stomach can bring. He puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his far from portly belly gently as Emily silently took away the empty plate and went back out into the kitchen to join Naomi.

'Fuck me, can that guy eat or what?' she gasped with an undercurrent of fascination in her voice. 'He practically licked the pattern off the plate. He's eaten more in the short time he's been here than I would eat in a week!'

'He's going to eat us out of house and home if he carries on like this.' Naomi was equally gobsmacked by DC Sweeney's insatiable appetite but his gluttony was only the tip of the iceberg as far as she was concerned. 'We can't afford to keep feeding him like this every day!'

'Yeah, but to be fair, he did buy in a whole load of food when he moved in with us, didn't he? I mean, it's not like the police can expect _us_ to finance his enormous appetite, can they? If he's going to live with us until they catch the killer, they're going to have to pay for his grub.'

'Too fucking right they will!' Naomi was not a happy bunny that day and she didn't care who saw it. From the minute DC Sweeney had moved in with them as their temporary hands-on guardian angel (or, as Naomi put it, 'hands fucking well right off guardian angel'), she had increasingly felt like she and Emily had been invaded, violated even. Their cosy little bijou residence, their own private fluffy love-nest had been transformed all in the space of twenty-four hours into some kind of PC Plod's Neanderthal den of iniquity. Quite apart from the constant eating, there was the intermittent farting, belching and even the odd bit of furtive yet prolonged balls-scratching that they had to contend with. Mind you, as Naomi pointed out with her customary quick wit, that last unsavoury habit alone might be enough to deter any would-be killer from trying to get near them, unless he had a pretty strong stomach.

'He couldn't have been anything else but a copper with manners like his, could he?' she suggested slyly to Emily who sniggered loudly and stuffed her hand over her mouth to prevent it turning into an almighty fit of hysterical laughter.

'_And_ he's always staring at my tits!' whispered Emily, remembering an incident that very morning when she had staggered downstairs wearing nothing but a low-cut baggy T-shirt and a pair of knickers and ran into DC Sweeney who had been unable to take his eyes off her chest until she had fled back upstairs to put on something more substantial.

'Oh, not just yours, sweetheart. He gives mine a quick once-over when he thinks I'm not looking. Perhaps we should introduce him to our postman. They'd get on like a house on fire.'

'Yeah. They could start their own shifty perverts club.'

The two girls collapsed into a fit of giggles and hung on to each other for support as they nearly doubled up in laughter.

'He asked me out once, you know?' said Naomi during a break in their giggling fit.

'What, already? The cheeky bastard! He's only been here five minutes!' Emily was shocked that a police constable could do such a thing while he was supposed to be concentrating on protecting them from a crazed killer of young girls.

'No!... Not Mr Plod! The…. postman,' spluttered an almost incoherent Naomi whom Emily had set off giggling manically again with her reaction of righteous indignation.

'When?' asked an open-mouthed and disbelieving Emily.

'Oh, ages ago. He was quite sweet about it, though. He blushed when he asked me and blushed even more when I politely but firmly declined.'

'Bloody hell!' said Emily, shaking her head in quiet amusement.' He's never asked me out. Jesus! Why the hell not?' She suddenly felt slighted, overlooked, belittled even by this startling omission on the postman's part.

'Well, maybe he prefers stunningly attractive, tall, long-legged blondes. I mean, you are a squat, short-arsed redhead when all's said and done.'

Naomi grinned provocatively at Emily who instantly screamed in mock resentment and outrage at her girlfriend's piss-taking and chased her out of the kitchen and all around the rest of the house, stopping only to grab the nearest kitchen implement she could lay her hands on with which to pretend to bash her about the head.

-.

'Come on, JJ. You know Naomi and Emily really well, don't you? You must have some idea who might be behind all this. You're a bright lad. I'm sure you can work it out.'

DS Blunt reckoned that flattery was as good a tactic as any with which to start probing the nervous young lad sitting uncomfortably opposite them on the living room sofa. Fortunately for them his parents were out when they called so they had the luxury of questioning him on his own without the risk of two street-wise, savvy adults trying to protect him from their expertly honed investigative skills.

JJ forced out an uncertain, nervous smile and desperately prayed that his self-conscious, embarrassing twitch wouldn't surface as it often did whenever he felt nervous and under close scrutiny.

'Um…. Well, yes, I suppose I do know them quite well. I mean, I know Emily very well, in fact. Or at least I did once, but it was only the once, you know. And anyway, that was before she and Naomi got together so it doesn't really count, does it…'

'JJ, calm down. Relax. We just want to know who might have it in for Naomi. Has she fallen out with anyone in a big way recently or even before then? Someone who might want to harm her or scare her? Maybe she's upset someone without realising it, someone perhaps who strikes you as the sort of guy who would hold a grudge and wouldn't hesitate to get even with her?' A jealous ex-boyfriend from way back, perhaps?'

JJ considered the avalanche of questions that were being gently but persistently fired at him whilst the two detectives never took their eyes off his face. He was starting to feel extremely hot and sweaty and he could feel the beads of perspiration trickling slowly down the sides of his face. He was painfully aware that he must look for all the world like someone with a very guilty secret to hide, which of course he knew he didn't. Nonetheless he couldn't help but feel that they suspected him of holding something back from them. He wished Lara was there with him. She would know exactly how to handle this type of Spanish Inquisition.

'How do you know it's a guy,' he blurted out in panic and immediately cursed himself inwardly. 'What the fuck was he thinking of?'

'Well, we don't, JJ. That's a good point. What makes you think it might not be?' DI Straw leaned forward and looked JJ right in the eyes without blinking.

'Nothing, nothing. I….. I….I don't know why I said that. I mean, it has to be a man, doesn't it. A woman couldn't do all those dreadful things, could she?'

DS Blunt attempted a kindly smile and said softly,' Well, it might be possible, JJ. If she was the right kind of woman, that is. If she was the kind of woman – or girl, even – who had a really evil, vengeful streak in her? The sort of girl who would stop at nothing to get even, to take revenge for being insulted, ignored, made fun of, rejected, you know, that sort of thing. Can you think of anyone who sounds like that?'

JJ shook his head from side to side, as he strove manfully to convince himself that the name that had immediately sprung to his mind couldn't possibly be the person the police were looking for.

'No. That would be….. ridiculous. It couldn't, it just….. couldn't be her.'

'It couldn't be who, JJ? I'm sure you're right, but tell us anyway. Who couldn't it be?'

DI Straw held his breath, crossed his fingers and prayed that JJ, the simple innocent soul that he was, wouldn't lose the power of speech completely before he coughed up the all-important name which he was so close to spilling the beans on.

'I know she's not exactly built like your average teenage girl. I mean she's _huge_, like a giant almost and probably quite strong but that doesn't make her a potential killer. That's not logical. Besides, she hasn't been around for some time now. I expect she's moved away from Bristol anyway so it can't be her.'

'Who's that, JJ?' DS Blunt could cheerfully have wrung the poor bumbling JJ's neck but she bit her lip, almost literally to stop herself from screaming out 'Oh, for fucks sake, stop pissing around and tell us her name, JJ. We haven't got all fucking day. While you sit here babbling away he or she could be killing another girl right now!' Fortunately she didn't otherwise JJ might have fainted on the spot.

'Well, Mandy, of course.' He looked at the two detectives blankly, as if it must have been obvious, surely, who he was referring to.

'That would be Mandy…?' said Straw encouragingly.

'Oh…. I don't know her surname. We just knew her as Mandy.'

'An ex-girlfriend of Naomi's was she, then?'

'Oh God, no! Naomi couldn't stand her. Not that you would blame her, I suppose. After all, she did make a play for Emily.'

The two coppers exchanged knowing looks and a half-smile crept across DI Straw's face. 'Did she indeed? And how did Naomi react to that? I don't imagine she was terribly happy about it.'

'No, she wasn't. I think they had a bit of a fight, actually. Not that I saw it of course, but I …..well, I kind of heard a lot of shouting and I think the odd slap was thrown. But that doesn't mean that Mandy would….no way, the whole idea's completely crazy. She wouldn't….no, she definitely wouldn't,' concluded JJ, nodding his head furiously to demonstrate that the suggestion was ludicrous.

'Well, thank you, JJ. You've been very helpful.' Straw and Blunt stood up and smiled appreciatively at the young lad who looked up at them with a horrified expression as the full implication of his incoherent, absent-minded ramblings suddenly dawned on him.

'Oh, shit! I mean, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to….. Christ! You're not going to….are you? Oh my sainted aunt! Please don't tell Emily and Naomi what I said to you! Please, they'll kill me….Not literally, of course, but they mustn't found out it was me…bollocks! You stupid, stupid wanker, JJ!'

'It's okay, JJ. I assure you this information will be treated in the strictest confidence.'

JJ's heart sank as he heard those time honoured words which he had come across in so many detective novels and crime thrillers. The deed was done. There was no escaping it. He had become a police informant, an official copper's nark. He was now the lowest of the low and he felt absolutely ashamed of himself.

The day had seemed interminably long to the girls and yet it was still only nine o'clock, the hour at which any normal teenager would be thinking about hitting the night clubs or settling down for a few swift drinks in the pub before closing time. However that evening neither of the girls was in the mood to seek out a party to go to or friends to hang out with. They were both thinking about bed but not for the usual reasons they would be thinking about bed in their previous existence B.C. - Before Constable Sweeney, that is.

A couple of tedious hours in front of the TV with him had been enough for both girls and once the football had come on they had left him to it. They had gratefully retired to the kitchen where they spent an hour or so chatting away, going through the motions of being affectionate and romantic to each other without either of them feeling comfortable enough to put their heart and soul into it with the lecherous, horny DC just a few feet away on the other side of the wall. Naomi finally announced that she was going to take a bath before retiring to bed and Emily had to admit defeat and said she would follow her example after she was done.

Emily whiled away the time pottering around down stairs, making Sweeney yet another cup of tea (which he had never turned down so far during his stay) and reading some more of her travel book on Goa. Sweeney came through and said he was popping out into the back garden for five minutes to have a smoke and check everything was okay out there.

Emily nodded and went into the front room to clean up after the detective who was obviously used to being waited on hand and foot at home by an adoring and indulgent mother. He never bothered to clean up after himself, leaving dirty cups, plates and the like lying around on tables and floors for others to pick up. A couple of minutes later and she had cleared away most of the mess that your average couch potato male could reasonably be expected to make in a couple of hours of lifeless vegetation on the sofa in front of the TV.

She had barely put everything way when Sweeney came back inside, blowing hard into his hands and rubbing them to show that the late Autumn evenings had started to turn more than a bit chilly. Emily said a cursory goodnight and dragged herself up the stairs and towards their bedroom. Naomi was clearly still in the bathroom as the light was still on. Emily gave a knock on the bathroom door on the way to tell her to hurry up before all the hot water ran out. She could just make out a muffled apology as she pushed open the bedroom door and went inside, reaching her hand out automatically for the light switch just inside the door

But before she could even feel the switch and press it down, a hand suddenly seemed to come out of nowhere and pressed hard down across her mouth whilst the other arm grabbed hold of her roughly across her chest and dragged her away from the doorframe and into the room, whilst a foot kicked the door shut behind them. Naturally Emily tried to scream, as the normal human emotions of complete shock and unimaginable terror instantly took over but the mystery hand was clamped too tightly over her mouth for a single sound to come out. The room was still pitch black to her eyes which hadn't had time to become accustomed to the shadowy darkness that seemed to envelop her like a smothering blanket. Her heart was racing so fast that she thought it was going to burst out of her heaving chest and she had to gulp in huge quantities of air through her nose just to stay conscious and avoid fainting from fright.

During those brief, terror-stricken moments which must have only lasted five or six seconds but which seemed, as we are often told, like a lifetime to Emily, she had only one thought racing through her scrambled, almost paralysed mind. 'I'm going to die! I'm going to die! I'm going to die alone and I'll never see Naomi again!'

**AUTHOR'S FOOTNOTE**

Are you intrigued and excited by how the story is progressing so far? Or are you frustrated at the seemingly endless number of potential suspects and the lack of concrete clues thrown at you to date? Do you long for the next chapter to be posted or do you wish I would bring the whole tedious thing to an end any time soon?

Either way, let me know what you think of this fic by leaving a comment or two! If you have any ingenious ideas as to where the story could go next then do tell me. I am always ready to run with a good plot development or suggestion!


	10. Chapter 10

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Detectives Straw and Blunt decide to turn the heat up and call on JJ who, under intense, persistent questioning, spills the beans about Mandy. DC Sweeney moves in with the girls to keep them under closer protection but his constant presence starts to put a strain on Naomi and Emily. At the end of the evening, while D.C. Sweeney is downstairs and Naomi is in the bathroom, Emily is pounced on by a mystery assailant when she enters the bedroom.

.-

**CHAPTER TEN: THE REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS PAST**

Emily was half expecting to feel the cold, steely blade of a knife at her throat any second as she struggled in vain to free herself from the clutches of her assailant. Whoever it was had grabbed hold of her expertly from behind making it impossible for her to see his face but she could feel his hot breath panting down on the back of her neck. Her heart was still thumping furiously and her eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets as she fought valiantly to remain conscious even though her whole body felt like giving in to her blind terror.

Then, just when she felt like she was losing the battle and could feel her legs turning to jelly and giving way completely under her, a very familiar voice broke the terrifying silence and spoke to her in a calm, unthreatening, yet determined manner.

'Emily, it's me. Stop struggling. I'm not going to hurt you. Now, I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth but you must promise NOT to scream. I don't want that copper to come charging upstairs and find me here. Do you understand?'

Emily was so flabbergasted to recognise instantly the identity of her would-be attacker that it was some moments before she remembered to nod her head vigorously up and down to indicate she understood the simple instructions she had been given. Her assailant's vice-like grip on her was slowly released allowing her to take in huge, deep gulps of air as she stood there shaking like a leaf, slowly recovering from the briefly terrifying ordeal she had survived.

When she finally had the courage to look round it was to see a familiar tall, slim, dark haired figure towering over her and staring at her with what she could sense was a serious and accusing expression.

'What the _fuck_ was that all about?' Emily whispered, hardly able to contain her rage. 'You frightened the life out of me. I thought you were going to kill me, you idiot!'

'I'm sorry, Emily,' Mandy whispered back, 'but I had to see you right away and without that dumb-arse copper listening in on our conversation.'

Emily's trembling was gradually subsiding and she moved over to the bed and sat down on the end of it, not taking her eyes off Mandy all the while. She couldn't imagine what was behind this over-dramatic and inexplicably clandestine visit by her one-time 'friend' but there had better be a bloody good reason for it, she told herself.

'So what do you need to see me about so urgently that you were prepared to risk frightening the life out of me for? Naomi's in the bathroom, you know. She's not exactly going to be happy to see you here; you know that, don't you?'

Mandy pulled a face at the mention of her one-time bitter rival for Emily's much-prized affections. 'So, you're still together, are you? How sweet!'

'Of course we are. We'll be together for ever. We love each other.' Emily glared at Mandy and seemed to be daring her to challenge her confident assertion of her and Naomi's rock-solid relationship.

'I thought you loved _me_ once. We could have made a wonderful couple.'

'No, Mandy, that was never going to happen. I only ever loved Naomi.'

'So, what was I, then? Just someone you could use to force Naomi to grovel her way back into your heart?'

Emily paused, unsure how to answer that question. It was too uncomfortably near the truth for her to admit it. She didn't want to get involved in any more emotional scenes with Mandy. She had succeeded in putting that stormy, confused chapter of her life well behind her and had moved on. She and Naomi were back together and this time she knew it would be for keeps – provided the likes of Mandy could be persuaded to jog on and leave them alone in peace.

'Look, Mandy, what the hell are you here for? Because, if you've come to try and take me away from Naomi, then you're wasting your time.'

Mandy frowned, debating momentarily whether to prolong the subject any further, before deciding it wasn't worth it and moving swiftly on to the real reason for her visit.

'I've had the police round this afternoon asking me all sorts of questions about you, me and Naomi! In front of my parents, as well! Have you _any_ idea how embarrassing that was?'

'What? Why?' Emily looked blankly at Mandy who was clearly still very upset about the ordeal she had been made to go through by the police and the revelations about her private love life that she would have wanted to keep from her family at all costs.

'They told me Naomi had received some anonymous threatening letters and some disturbing pictures and they thought it might have been _me_ that sent them! Me!'

'But that's ridiculous. I know you've got nothing to do with all of this.'

'So, why did you give them my name? For fuck's sake, Emily. How am I going to be able to face my family after this?'

'I _didn't_ give them your name! I never mentioned you once in all the times the police questioned us. I promise. You've got to believe me, Mandy.'

'So who the hell did? Someone has obviously grassed me up'

With perfect timing, as if right on cue in a dress rehearsal for one of the major scenes in a 'kitchen-sink drama', the bedroom door opened and in walked Naomi, with a towel wrapped around her torso and wet blonde hair cascading down onto her bare shoulders. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Emily sitting on the edge of their bed with an angry and emotional Mandy towering over her, virtually in tears.

Effy had been tossing and turning in her bed for getting on for an hour but she just couldn't relax her body and mind sufficiently to drift off to sleep. Every limb, every muscle, every fibre in her aching body was crying for release and yet her head was too full of thoughts and images of Freddie to allow her the luxury of blissful unconsciousness. She let out a heavy sigh of frustration and pummelled her pillow with her tiny fists. When would these demons of doubt and uncertainty ever release their hold over her, she wondered in despair? Did they intend to persecute her for the rest of her life? Would she ever be able to sleep normally like other people or did the future hold nothing for her but an endless procession of dark, depressing days and sleepless nights from which there would be no escape?

On the rare occasions when she did succeed in dropping off to sleep she was invariably shaken out of her uneasy slumbers by nightmarish visions of death and decay in which Freddie always seemed to feature somewhere in the background. He was never actually there with her, never right by her side as she experienced these swirling sensations of claustrophobia, isolation and confinement. He constantly appeared in her peripheral vision, always seemingly on the outside of her turmoil, looking helplessly in as she screamed for help. She would reach out her arms towards him, imploring him to pull her free but he would shake his head silently and carry on observing her misery and despair.

Effy decided she couldn't stand fidgeting restlessly in her bed a minute longer. She leapt out of bed and frantically searched around the room for some clothes to throw on, anything at all would do. She didn't give a toss what she might have looked like, just so long as they would keep her warm. She pulled on a sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms and found a pair of trainers which had obviously been chucked down on the floor and had half disappeared under the bed. Two minutes later she was peering around the door to check if she could see a light on under the bedroom door of her mother. She could. Good. Her Mum was probably reading in bed and so she wouldn't have to run the gauntlet of anxious questions from her downstairs when she tried to leave the house.

She put on her leather jacket which was hanging up in the hall and with immense care and concentration slowly opened the front door and slipped outside without making a sound, closing it behind her with equal stealth and precision. She moved confidently out into the street and started making her way towards her intended destination. She had her head down as protection against the wind which was blowing into her face and was concentrating intently on getting to a better place, somewhere she would feel calmer and safer where she could finally relax. Consequently she was oblivious to the car that had started up its engine once she had left the house and was now doggedly following her path, albeit at a discreet distance, as she walked the streets.

It had been fifteen minutes since Naomi had sent Mandy packing from the house with an almighty flea in her ear. The blonde had retreated back into the bathroom in the mother of all moods and rages, leaving a tearful Emily alone again in the bedroom wondering if the not-so-jolly green giant had once again cast a considerable shadow over their relationship. Naomi had unsurprisingly flipped her lid upon seeing Mandy in her bedroom alone with Emily and the subsequent sounds of her screaming and shouting had equally predictably brought a frantic DC Sweeney tearing up the stairs to fling open the bedroom door, gun brandished menacingly in hand.

The sight of the regulation issue police handgun, which neither girl had been aware he was carrying on him, had provoked further screams of terror from all three girls this time but it did at least bring to an end the slanging and slapping match that had kicked off between Naomi and Mandy. Sweeney's face on realising that a complete stranger, indeed a mere slip of a girl, had managed to get past him into the house and up to the girls' bedroom without him knowing it was a picture of red-faced embarrassment and shock. He knew there'd be hell to pay with DI Straw if his boss got to hear of this.

When all three girls had finally calmed down Emily introduced Sweeney to Mandy and explained who she was and why she had come to see them.

'I couldn't help thinking of her name when the police were asking us who might have a grudge against me,' said Naomi, turning to Emily at the first break in the conversation. 'I'm sorry, Ems, but I really did. Who else could hate me this much?'

'You fucking cow!' screamed Mandy, launching herself across the room at the scowling blonde. It needed the sharp reflexes of DC Sweeney and a pair of rigidly outstretched arms to intervene between the two girls and prevent more bloodshed than might have resulted had he actually started shooting wildly when he first came into the room. The acrimonious insults continued between the arch foes, with a distressed Emily cowering on the bed, with tears running down her face as she watched her girlfriend almost completely lose it in front of DC Sweeney.

'Please, Naomi, don't! You're just making things worse! Calm down, please!' she cried, afraid that the constable might decide to arrest her for attempted assault, threatening behaviour or simply causing a breach of the peace, anything in fact to get her away from this potentially explosive situation and calm her down by throwing her in a police cell for one night to give her time to think about her behaviour.

Fortunately, Sweeney decided that the unpleasant situation would best be diffused by marching a still ranting and raving Mandy down the stairs and escorting her out of the house which he promptly did, despite all the efforts of the tall, strong girl to break free. Naomi couldn't resist giving Mandy a triumphant little wave of farewell as Sweeney firmly led her out of the room but as soon as she was gone the blonde turned on her heels and retreated back to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. A tearful Emily had then spent the next quarter of an hour pleading with Naomi to come out and talk about it which Naomi refused to agree to, saying she was too angry to talk. The thought passed through a thoroughly miserable Emily's mind that this was the second time in just a few days that the pair of them had been arguing through a locked bathroom door. She was worried sick their relationship might be on the skids.

By the time Effy arrived at the house the stiff breeze which had greeted her when she left home had degenerated into something approaching a gale and she was shivering violently and desperate to get in to the warm. Her long, dark hair had been blown all over the place and lent her even more of a wild, carefree appearance than usual. As she went round the side of the house, heading for the back garden, the car that had been following her from a distance ever since she left her house pulled up slowly and came to a halt on the other side of the road. The driver watched as Effy disappeared from view and then turned the engine off. After a brief hesitation he opened the car door and got out, quietly shutting the door behind him and locking it, before hurrying with quiet determination in the direction that Effy had just vanished from view.

So intent was she on finding shelter from the weather and sanctuary from the dark forces that had been preying on her mind all evening, Effy was completely unaware that by the time she reached the shed door and opened it there were two pairs of keen eyes trained on her. Without even thinking to look around to check that her presence in the garden had gone unnoticed, she opened the door, which she knew was still never locked, and slipped swiftly inside, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Once she was inside the shed she breathed a huge, heavy sigh of relief and went over to the sofa, throwing herself down on it and stretching out her and arms and legs as far as they would go in an attempt to shake the nervous tension and rigid fear out of her body. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, searching for something to soothe her nerves even more and found a packet of cigarettes, though sadly not the spliff she had been hoping for. She lit one immediately and inhaled deeply with the first drag before blowing ridiculously large rings of smoke into the air, one after the other and watching them float up and away before disappearing from view.

Lately Effy had frequently taken to sneaking into Freddie's shed late at night when she couldn't get to sleep in her own bed. The first time she did it, a few weeks ago, it had been from a desperate need to be around his stuff, to fill her head with all the memories of him. She had wanted to cling on to the vain hope that he might suddenly turn up again as unexpectedly as he had vanished from her life and if that were to happen then she wanted to be there, calmly waiting for him in his shed. But he hadn't shown up. Nonetheless she continued to go back there whenever she was feeling particularly scared, vulnerable and alone.

She always felt becalmed as soon as she set foot inside his shed, as if somehow he was in there with her somewhere, hiding from her in some secret hideaway place that only he knew about. She couldn't actually see him as such but he still felt close at hand, talking to her, whispering words of comfort and reassurance that would quickly put her mind at rest and banish the evil spirits and the persistent voices in her head that were preventing her from sleeping, stopping her from carrying on with her life.

She closed her eyes and began thinking about him, recalling moments they had spent together, either alone or with the rest of the gang, but always happy, smiling, laughing images that seemed to fill the room and take on a life form that extended far beyond the confines of her vivid memories. She could almost smell him in her nostrils. She reached out a hand to try to touch him but he was always infuriatingly just that little bit too far out of reach. She cried out his name, softly at first, then more urgently and stridently, begging him to save her from the darkness into which she had fallen.

Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and her body had become loose and relaxed as the nicotine and the warm, comforting images of Freddie had begun to kick in and have their effect. She might even have been on the verge of dropping off to sleep when a noise from outside the shed shattered her reveries and brought her back to full consciousness with a start. She sat up and listened hard, barely daring to breathe. There was no mistaking it – she could hear the sound of footsteps approaching the shed.

She jumped to her feet and frantically looked around for somewhere to hide. She had never had to do this before. No-one had ever disturbed her taking refuge in Freddie shed since she started coming here so a hiding-place had never been a major issue. But now as the muffled, determined tread of the unknown visitor got ever closer, she was desperate to find somewhere to hide. She started to panic. She needed to hide somewhere immediately before the door opened, before the bogeyman or Jason or even Freddy Kruger appeared at the door but she couldn't think straight.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped dead and the unmistakeable sound of the door being opened seemed to reverberate all around the shed and worse, inside her head. She put her hand to her mouth to prevent a scream from coming out and scrambled to dive down behind the back of the sofa. This had never proved to be a terribly successful ploy in horror movies, she was fully aware of that, but her options were sadly limited.

She was holding her breath and her heart was beating so loudly that she felt certain it could be heard by the intruder who now had opened the door wide and whom Effy could sense was hovering in the doorway.

'Effy? Effy? Where are you? I know you're in here. I saw you go in.'

An almost indescribable feeling of relief swept over Effy in waves as she instantly recognised the voice whispering her name. She climbed to her feet from the back of the sofa and returned the greeting, feeling slightly foolish as she stepped forward.

'I'm here. I was afraid. I didn't know who it was, I'm sorry.'

Karen stared at Effy with a look of bemusement and shook her head slowly. 'What the fuck are you doing here, Effy? Do you know what time it is?'

'It's late, I know. I…I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to….well, be near to Freddie, you know?' Her explanation sounded lame in the extreme, she realised that, but then the truth often does sound the most bizarre and irrational explanation for things.

Karen nodded silently and then came over to Effy, pulling the tall brunette gently towards her and gave her a big hug which Effy gratefully reciprocated. The two girls stood holding on to each other like that for some time and Effy felt comforted by Karen's spontaneous gesture of support and understanding of how she was feeling.

'Yeah, I know,' said Karen when she eventually pulled back and looked closely at Effy with the hint of a sad smile playing across her lips. 'I come here to think about him too – but not in the middle of the night, though! Come on, let's get you inside the house. You must be freezing your tits off in here. I'll make us some tea, okay?'

Mandy had been walking around town aimlessly for God knows how long, trying to calm down and regain her composure and her customary poise. It had been an extremely emotional and traumatic day for her, what with the police unexpectedly calling on her at home to question her about her relationship with Emily and Naomi and then seeing Emily again for the first time after their painful break-up

She had been _so e_mbarrassed when the police had turned up and started asking her intimate, personal questions about her and Emily in front of her strait-laced parents who, naturally enough, hadn't the faintest idea of their daughter's 'special friendship' with Emily. Then, when it became clear that the reason behind their questioning was that they were looking for some crazy psycho killer who had sent photos of the dead girls to Naomi, she was plunged into even deeper depths of rage and disbelief that they could actually think her capable of such sick acts of brutality and sadism.

After the police took their leave, she hadn't felt up to facing the wrath, hellfire and damnation of her parents so she fled the house immediately before they had a chance to give her an even more painful third degree inquisition than the police had managed.

The face-off with Naomi at her house that evening well and truly rounded off one of the most miserable days of her life so far.

Mandy couldn't believe Naomi had seriously thought of her as a possible suspect. Typical of that foul-mouthed, arrogant, stuck-up bitch, she thought! What the fuck Emily saw in her she couldn't imagine_. She_ would have been so much better for Emily, if only Emily had had the courage to ditch the blonde bitch and come away with her. She could have made her really happy, she knew it. Now Emily would be condemned to a lifetime of insecurity, misery and probably endless scrapes and incidents with the law, given the sort of shit that skanky tart got herself mixed up in.

She was starting to feel a lot better and happier in herself the more abusive tirades she launched into against Naomi. It would serve her right if some crazy killer did do her in, she chuckled. It couldn't happen to a nicer girl – NOT! But she still couldn't bring herself to return home and face the music so she decided to crash out at a friend's place over on the other side of the park.

She wouldn't normally have entertained the idea of walking through a dimly lit, empty, isolated expanse of parkland at this time of night. However she had been so engrossed in reeling off a stream of invective against Naomi to make her feel better that before she had realised it she had already wandered fifty yards into it so she decided against turning back and going the more long-winded yet safer route to her friend's house.

She had got to within less than a hundred yards of the exit and the relative safety of the well-lit streets where her friend lived when she heard a noise behind her and she slowly turned round with an uneasy feeling gripping her whole body. She instinctively reached her hand towards the Mace spray which she habitually carried around with her in a side compartment of her handbag just in case she should ever be attacked by anyone at night, be it the Bristol killer or worse, Naomi Campbell. When she realised who it was that was calmly approaching her with measured steps she relaxed, although she wasn't exactly overjoyed at this unexpected meeting.

'Oh, God, it's you again! Look, don't you _ever_ take the hint? I told you the other night you're wasting your time. I'm not interested. Now, please, do me a favour and fuck off, will you, there's a good…'but Mandy was rudely cut off in her prime before she could finish her last sentence.

**AUTHOR'S FOOTNOTE**

May I say huge thanks to all those who have taken the trouble to review my story and pass on their entertaining and often very interesting theories and ideas about the killer. Please keep them coming! It's great that so many of you are getting 'involved' in the story. I hope I can continue to keep your interest going in the many chapters ahead!


	11. Chapter 11

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: The mystery person who succeeded in slipping past Sweeney and pouncing on Emily turns out to be Mandy who is freaked out about her visit from the police. Effy is unable to sleep whilst she feels haunted by nightmarish images of Freddie so she goes over to crash out in his shed to feel closer to him. Karen sees her as she goes in but so does a mystery stalker who has followed her from home by car. Naomi and Mandy have a huge row in front of Emily which Sweeney has to break up. A tearful and furious Mandy has an unexpected meeting in the park on the way home.

.-

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: PUPPET ON A STRING**

When Emily woke up the next morning she was relieved to see that Naomi was still in bed next to her. Given the stormy events of the previous evening, she wouldn't have been totally surprised to have woken up to an empty bed with Naomi crashed out in the chair opposite her. They hadn't said much to each other after Mandy had been escorted out of the house by DC Sweeney. At least Naomi did finally relent and came out of the bathroom, albeit to go straight to bed without saying much more than an unromantic 'goodnight' to Emily. Clearly on this occasion Naomi chose to exercise her right to waive the golden rule about never going to bed on an argument.

As Emily stared across at the still quietly sleeping blonde she wondered for the first time if the two of them would truly survive the terrible ordeal they were going through and emerge at the other side with their relationship fully intact. God knows it had somehow survived all manner of trials and tribulations so far yet this new threat seemed to Emily to be one which she felt powerless to control or influence.

It felt like they had been thrown in prison together and were struggling to cope with the lack of privacy, freedom and independence that was the inevitable by-product of two people being incarcerated in such a confined space. They had been an incredibly close couple for some time now but, even so, she appreciated keenly that each of them needed a sense of her own identity. Emily had been feeling for several days now that she had been reduced to a bit-part role, namely that of 'the girlfriend of' the girl who was being persecuted by an unknown serial killer. She was terrified that the recent sequence of events was threatening to draw Naomi slowly yet inexorably away from her and she wasn't sure she knew how to stop it from happening.

As these worrying thoughts raced through her head, causing her to frown and press her lips together to stifle a small sob, Naomi stirred next to her. The blonde turned slightly towards Emily, slowly opened her eyes and fixed them on an anxious Emily who hesitated a little nervously before speaking,

'Morning, Blondie. Are you still talking to me or should I just go and make breakfast for myself?'

Naomi smiled somewhat sheepishly and stretched out a hand from under the duvet to softly caress the side of Emily's worried face before gently pulling the redhead towards her. She kissed Emily with knee-trembling warmth and sweetness before replying.

'Of course I'm still speaking to you, silly. Why wouldn't I be?'

'Well, after what happened last night with Mandy I thought maybe you'd still be mad at me.' Emily felt heartened and encouraged by Naomi's gorgeously unexpected kiss, not to mention incredibly turned on and horny but she didn't want to jump on her and ravish her just yet until she was certain she had gauged her mood correctly.

'I wasn't mad at _you_. I was mad at _her_….and myself as well, I guess.' She let out a heavy sigh before continuing. 'I shouldn't have kicked off the way I did. She's not worth it.'

Emily smiled and draped her arms around Naomi's neck and kissed _her _this time, her heart almost singing with joy unconfined. Things were back to normal. Thank God!

'Mind you, something good may have come out of it, you know.' Naomi gave an enigmatic grin and Emily could see there was a definite hint of wicked laughter in her sparkling blue eyes as she spoke.

'What do you mean?' Emily was confused yet intrigued and waited calmly for Naomi to explain herself.

'Well, our DC's going to be well in the shit if word of Mandy getting past him and into the house gets back to his bastard of a DI, isn't he?'

'Mmm, yeah, probably,' Emily agreed, unsure exactly where Naomi was leading with this observation.

'Think about it, Ems. We've got his knackers on a plate, haven't we! If we promise him we won't rat on him, that we won't tell his boss that his boy fucked up big time last night then we can get him to do us a few favours in return,'

'What sort of favours?' asked a mystified Emily. She couldn't imagine DC Sweeney being capable of doing anything much for them that they would appreciate.

'Well, he can stop scratching his balls all the time for starters. Plus, _he _can do all the cooking if he wants to eat so much – AND buy all the shopping. He can clear up his own fucking mess – in fact he can do all the bloody housework! We can see to it that he spends his whole time here waiting on us hand and foot, not the other way round.'

Emily burst out laughing at Naomi's simple yet brilliant plan. Blackmail is, of course, a very ugly word but then it was a very ugly situation that they found themselves in. It was a case of survival of the fittest, sink or swim, if you like, and Naomi was ruthless in her determination that if anyone was going down, it sure as hell wasn't going to be them. They were going to bleed DC Sweeney dry over the next few days.

Naomi's devilishly cunning plan was working a treat. DC Sweeney had been the first to bring up the subject of his negligence on the job the night before and had begged the two girls not to tell his boss. Naomi played it to perfection. Initially she pretended to be appalled at the idea that she should keep back something as disturbing as his misdemeanour from DI Straw. She feigned deep concern for her and Emily's safety, suggesting that for peace of mind another detective should be assigned to them who could guarantee the kind of police protection that they had been assured they would receive.

DC Sweeney almost fell on his knees at that point, imploring the two girls to keep schtum, promising that it would never happen again and claiming he would make it up to them any way they wanted. As soon as Naomi saw the narrowest of openings, she didn't hold back in driving the bus right through it. Sweeney never had a chance after that: he was toast.

'Okay, okay. Calm down. Don't get your knickers in a twist. Here's the deal. We'll keep our mouths shut about your cock-up last night and in return you can start doing a few things for us. Agreed?'

'What sort of things?' Sweeney paled visibly at the thought of the possible list of outrageous demands that this terrifyingly confident, self-assured and downright scary young madam might come up with.

'Oh, just a few simple things to make our lives stuck in here more bearable. Like, you can stop scratching your bollocks in front of us all the time for a start. It's NOT a pretty sight for us girls to have to witness, trust me.'

'And then you can make us breakfast,' added Emily who didn't want to miss out on the fun of tormenting the young DC.

'That's EVERY day, mind you, not just today, you understand?' Naomi gave Sweeney one of her most piercing stares, the sort which would have felled a WWW wrestler at twenty paces, never mind a nervous quivering wreck of a detective constable with his balls already caught in a vice.

'Is that it?' Sweeney asked, hardly daring to believe he would get off so lightly.

'You've got to be joking,' scoffed Naomi with a sneer, determined to milk it for all it was worth. 'That's only for starters. We'll think of plenty of other stuff for you to do to keep you amused. You're not on holiday, after all. You're supposed to be working. Your job is to protect us, remember?'

'Which means making sure that we feel safe, comfortable and relaxed all the time. We shouldn't be having any stress, any worries or any pressure. So that means _you_ have to take that burden off our shoulders.' Emily was warming to the task and she and Naomi exchanged secret winks which almost set them both into a fit of giggles. They were going to have fun with this, however long it ran for. He was going to be sorely in need of a holiday or quite possibly counselling by the time they'd finished with him.

DS Blunt knocked on DI Straw's door and went straight in, barely bothering to wait for the sound of his cry of enter. .

'Gov, that girl we spoke to yesterday afternoon, Mandy, the friend of Emily Fitch's? She's been reported missing by her parents. Apparently she went out soon after we left them and hasn't been seen since. She didn't come home last night.'

'Has she done this sort of thing before? Stayed out all night? Gone missing for a day or two?'

'Her parents say never – not all night, not without ringing them to let them know if she's staying over with friends. They said she was pretty upset after we left, refused to talk to them and took off without a word.'

DI Straw nodded his head. He wasn't surprised at the young girl's reaction to their visit. He'd have been mortified if he'd been in her shoes. It can't have been easy for her to discuss all that stuff in front of her strict religious-minded parents.

'I guess she was embarrassed about us asking her about her relationship with the two girls. It was obvious her parents knew nothing about it – and were pretty shocked to hear about it, as well.' He paused to consider what a distressed young girl who'd just been 'outed' in front of her parents would be likely to do next. But he gave up quickly. He didn't have the imagination required to put himself in her place.

Have we got uniform making enquiries?'

'Yes, gov.

'She might have simply done a runner, gone off to stay with someone she can trust, someone who would give her time and space to think about what to do.'

'Could be. But her parents have contacted all of her friends they know of and no-one's seen her since yesterday morning.'

'It'll be someone they don't know about, Blunt. Someone she's been keeping quiet about, more than likely.'

'Or she could be victim number three, gov.'

'Let's hope not. We'll treat her as a missing person for now until we find her…..one way or another.'

DS Blunt turned to go and supervise the squad with their enquiries before stopping and shooting a final question at her boss.

'It's possible, isn't it, that Mandy may be staying over with Naomi and Emily? Shouldn't we check up on that?'

'What about Sweeney? Has he checked in with any news today?'

DS Blunt shook her head. 'It's all been very quiet, he said. Nothing much to report in the last twenty-four hours at all. I think he's on to a cushy number with those girls. He's probably living the life of Reilly over there..

'Give him another call. Find out if this Mandy visited the girls last night.'

DC Sweeney finally finished drying and putting away the last of the plates and threw the tea towel down on the kitchen top, heaving a sigh of relief as he did so. He was going to take a five minute fag break whether those girls liked it or not. He unlocked the back door, stepped outside into the garden and lit a cigarette, puffing furiously on it as much to calm himself down as from any burning desire to feed his nicotine habit. .He was still furious with himself for having slipped up so massively the previous night and consequently having put himself in the position of being held to ransom by these girls.

The trouble was, he knew they had him over a barrel with this Mandy business and, what was worse, he knew they knew it too. There could only be one winner in this unequal local skirmish and it wasn't going to be him. Unless of course he'd had enough of CID work and fancied a return to uniform branch and a spot of traffic control, giving tourists directions and helping little old ladies across the road – which he most certainly didn't.

He was well and truly fucked whichever way he looked at it. Initially he thought he'd do anything rather than incur the wrath of DI Straw who enjoyed a reputation for not suffering fools gladly. But after his exertions of that morning when the girls, and Naomi especially, had got him cleaning the house, washing and drying all the dishes and generally being transformed into some apology for a domestic God, he wasn't sure any more which was the lesser of the two evils. He was exhausted, done for, a spent force. His Mum never made him do half of this at home and he was feeling very sorry for himself.

He finished his cigarette and went back inside, relieved to find that the girls were happily sprawled out on the sofa in the living-room preoccupied with planning something or other. He sat down in a spare armchair, picked up the paper and started thumbing through the sports pages, praying that they would simply ignore him and carry on with whatever they were doing, which mercifully they did. They seemed top be planning some trip abroad, talking about places they could visit and sight they would see. He hadn't the heart to tell them that unless this killer was caught pretty damn soon, Straw might insist that they stay in Bristol until they finally tracked him down.

Just as he was getting comfortable and feeling happy with life for the first time that day his mobile rang and when he saw it was Blunt calling he tutted and sighed which instantly caught the girls' attention. He took the call and listened as Blunt came straight to the point. He quickly realised he was going to have to bluff his way out of this predicament and so he got up to move into the kitchen for some privacy, not realising that Naomi had quietly followed him out of the room and was secretly listening to his conversation from the hall.

'Yes, she did actually. Showed up about half nine or ten, I think. She wanted a word with the girls. They had a bit of a chat…well, okay they had a bit of a shouting match, I suppose but she soon left when I got them all to calm down a bit. Why? What's happened?'

He listened to Blunt's explanation of Mandy's disappearance since her brief visit to Naomi's house and whistled in surprise. 'Jesus! Do you think she's run away from home or…..? '

He listened again as Blunt continued and then said no more other than grunting a few times in agreement before ending the call and returning to the living-room where he found Naomi sitting there looking up at him with a big grin on her face.

'Was that your boss, by any chance?'

'Um….yes, well, DS Blunt, actually.'

'And did you tell her about how Mandy managed to slip past you into the house and upstairs to our bedroom without you knowing?'

'Not….as such, no.' Sweeney turned bright red and stammered with nervous embarrassment as he felt Naomi's accusing gaze burn right through him.

'Oh dear, detective constable. You appear to have told a bit of a porky to your boss, haven't you? You'd better hope to God that we decide to back you up in your story, hadn't you?' Naomi was really enjoying turning the screw as tightly as she could manage. 'Now, let's see, Ems, what else can we get DC Sweeney to do that will take his mind off the terrible lie he's just told?'

Emily pondered a few moments whilst Naomi smiled in exaggerated fashion at poor Sweeney who sat back down, his shoulders hunched in defeated mode, dreading the next instalment of the particularly sadistic brand of slow torture they were inflicting upon him.

'I know,' said Emily, breaking into a smile, 'He could have a go at clearing out the gutter round the back of the house. It's been clogged up with all sorts of crap for months. If you could do that, I'm sure it would help us to forget all about Mandy slipping past you so easily right last night!'

Sweeny nodded mournfully and turned to go but Naomi's sharp question called him swiftly back.

'What did you mean when you said 'Do you think she's run away from home'?

Sweeney told them about Mandy not having come back home the night before and the two girls exchanged thoughtful, silent glances.

'Oh, she'll be alright. She's probably gone and got pissed somewhere and crashed out at a friend's,' suggested Naomi, though the tone of her voice made it perfectly clear that she really couldn't give a toss about Mandy's welfare and wouldn't lose any sleep if she never saw her again.

A police search team had been combing every inch of Mandy's route from Naomi's house to her home for the last two hours and had finally struck lucky only half or mile away from her house. The body of a dead girl had been found dumped in the trees at the side of the park. Straw and Blunt went straight to the scene and were able to instantly confirm that it did look like it was the missing girl, Mandy from the picture they had been given by her parents.

'Same kind of knife wounds as the other two girls, gov,' said Blunt and Straw nodded.

'But if it is the same guy, why hasn't a photo and a message been sent to Miss Campbell? Sweeney said there had been no suspicious parcels delivered in the post today, didn't he?'

DS Blunt nodded. 'Maybe he got scared now that we've been keeping an eye on the girls? Or maybe he hasn't sent them yet. Maybe they'll arrive tomorrow.'

Straw shook his head. Something didn't feel right about this killing. If it was the same man, he would have stuck to his pattern, his tried and tested MO. Why would he change all of a sudden? He didn't buy the cold feet explanation nor the possibility that he was late in sending Naomi the evidence of his handiwork. Either she had received a photo and a message or it wasn't the same killer. He was sure of that; he'd stake his reputation on it.

'We need to be sure,' he said curtly. 'You go over to the girls' house and check it out. I'll break the news to poor Mandy's parents.'

DS Blunt nodded and set off. She would have Sweeney's guts for garters if a package _had_ been delivered and he'd missed it somehow, the dozy twat, she thought.

Naomi and Emily were putting the finishing touches to getting ready to go out for the evening. JJ had phoned Emily an hour or so ago and invited then over for a Spaghetti Bolognese dinner with him, Lara and Albert. They had accepted eagerly and had told DC Sweeney that he could drive them over and then come back and pick them up and bring them home when they were ready. Being a glorified taxi service was yet another idea that Naomi had dreamed up to make full use of Sweeney's predicament and he had acquiesced with a resigned shrug of the shoulders and a hang-dog expression.

'Come on, Naoms!' said an impatient Emily who couldn't wait to get out of the house and over to Lara's. She adored baby Albert and was almost more excited at the prospect of seeing him again as she was at spending the evening with JJ and his cute girlfriend- though she kept the bit about Lara being cute to herself. Naomi could get very jealous very quickly if she thought any other girl was attractive to Emily.

'What the fuck are you doing?' she asked, seeing Naomi appearing to conduct a thorough search all around the house for something.

'I'm looking for my bloody phone. I haven't seen it since this morning. I must have put it down somewhere, for Christ's sake!'

Emily let out a sigh followed by a strangled scream of frustration. Naomi was always losing her mobile – she was even worse than she was for doing that. She hated leaving the house without it and Emily knew they would be even later setting off unless she helped her find it. Fortunately the misplaced phone was soon found by Emily who handed it over to Naomi with that resigned look on the face of a parent who despaired of their children ever learning to tidy away their toys after they had finished playing with them.

'Happy, now? Can we finally go, please?'

Naomi nodded as she scanned her phone to check how many messages she had missed that day. Only two, she saw with relief. One was from her Mum which she quickly read and smiled as an increasingly impatient Emily drummed her fingers on the door out in the hall. The second one didn't show a number which Naomi thought was odd. She opened it up and started to read it.

'Naoms! You can do that in the car, for Christ's sake. COME ON, we really…...'

Emily stopped short and watched open-mouthed as Naomi suddenly let out an almighty scream, dropped the phone on to the floor and promptly fell to her knees and threw up all over the carpet. DC Sweeney, who had been checking the back door was securely locked, came rushing out to the two girls to see what the fuss was all about. Upon seeing Naomi in obvious shock and a distraught Emily kneeling down beside her comforting her, he picked up Naomi's mobile which lay next to her and looked at the screen.

It was a picture of a girl who had clearly been brutally stabbed to death in several places. She was lying on her back with her arms flung backwards behind her and her eyes were staring lifelessly straight back at the camera. Her long dark hair was partially thrown across her face but if it had been done deliberately in an attempt to hide her identity it had failed miserably. The face of the girl in the picture was unmistakeably that of Mandy's.


	12. Chapter 12

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi has a plan to 'blackmail' DC Sweeney into waiting on her & Emily hand and foot in return for them keeping quiet about Mandy slipping past him into the house. Mandy is reported missing by her parents and the police instigate a search for her which results in her body being found in the park. As the girls are about to leave to meet up with JJ & Lara, Naomi makes the shocking discovery that a photo of the dead Mandy has been sent to her mobile phone.

.-

**CHAPTER TWELVE: MESSAGE ALERT**

A stunned, almost tangible silence hung heavily over the house as Naomi and Emily struggled to take in what had just happened. They sat side by side in the living room, holding on to each other with a desperation which bordered on frantic as DS Blunt and DC Sweeney gently but firmly bombarded them with questions yet again. No, neither of them had a clue who could be doing this. No, Naomi couldn't think of anyone that the police didn't already know about that she might have angered or hurt so badly that they could want to scare her or kill her. Worst of all was, no, of course it couldn't be one of her friends!

'It _has_ to be someone you know, Naomi,' insisted a genuinely concerned DS Blunt who was sitting opposite the two girls. 'Think about it! This person has sent you a photo of Mandy to your mobile phone. He knows your number, Naomi. How many random strangers do you usually give your mobile number to?'

Naomi looked across at Blunt with tears in her eyes and shook her head in utter confusion and incomprehension. 'None,' she replied, gripping Emily's hands even more tightly and searching for confirmation in Emily's face. Emily nodded silently and released one of her hands from Naomi's, putting an arm around the blonde's shoulders.

'Well, we've got no option but to go through every single name on your contacts list, Naomi and question them. I mean, how likely is it that someone has your number but you don't have theirs?'

One thing had been puzzling Emily since Naomi had discovered the message on her phone and she had to ask the question that she had been mulling over in her scrambled mind for several minutes.

'If you're so sure guy who sent the message is known to Naomi, how come he was able to withhold his number? I don't get it. Surely it'll be easy for you to trace him?'

'Not if he's using an unregistered mobile phone. You can buy a pay as you go mobile phone without a contract and no-one would know the identity of the person using it.'

DC Sweeney was quick to put Emily straight on that detail.

'But the phone company who sold him the phone must have kept sales records of him buying it?' Naomi's interest was surprisingly awakened by this interesting little conundrum which had been presented to them, despite still appearing to be suffering from severe shock

'He would have paid for it by cash,' explained DS Blunt who was glad to see that the girls were at last making some kind of an effort to help them with their investigation even if they were a bit naïve when it came to understanding the clever, cunning ways of your average serial killer.

'That's why we have to question and eliminate everyone who knows your mobile number, Naomi. Every single person on that contact list is a potential suspect.'

'But they're our friends, for Christ's sake,' cried Naomi, not wanting to believe the message that DS Blunt was at great pains to get across to her. 'It can't be any of them!'

'Well, that's not completely true, is it Naomi?' Sweeney had been intently studying the contents of Naomi's phone during the conversation and had come to that inescapable conclusion. 'I mean, you've got numbers in here for your doctor, your dentist, one or two teachers at Roundview College amongst others. Is your doctor or dentist a close personal friend, then?'

'No! Of course not!' Naomi was beginning to resent what she saw as DC Sweeney's slightly superior attitude towards her. It sounded like he was talking to her as if she was an idiot and it was pissing her off. 'Why would either of them want to do this to me?'

'We don't know, Naomi. None of this seems to make sense at the moment. But obviously to the killer it all makes perfect sense. In his mind he will have a good reason for killing these girls and sending you pictures of them after he's killed them. Our job is to work out what that reason is. Only then can we hope to catch him.'

DS Blunt had detected a note of antipathy in Naomi's voice when she replied to Sweeney's observation and wondered if there had been any problems or tension between the two of them since the DC had moved in with them. Perhaps a more sensitive, more experienced officer should replace him on protection duty, she thought. She would speak to Straw about it. At any rate they would almost certainly have to increase the girls' protection now. An additional female officer living in with them might be the answer.

She stood up to take her leave, saying she had to report back to DI Straw with the latest developments. She made a point before she left of reassuring both girls that the police would catch this killer soon enough and that in the meantime they would ensure that they were properly protected at all times. 'No-one will be able to get to you, I promise,' smiled Blunt weakly. 'You've got DC Sweeney with you on the inside and the PC outside the house around the clock. And wherever you go, Sweeney will be there right with you, okay?'

Naomi and Emily exchanged silent, hesitant glances. They knew that assurance given so confidently by DS Blunt of guaranteed safety from any would-be intruders wasn't worth a row of beans if Sweeney was the copper in whom they were meant to place their trust. Emily wondered if she and Naomi should express their concerns about Sweeney's competence to Blunt right there and then but she caught a beseeching look in the DC's eyes and couldn't help but take pity on him. She trusted and prayed that he wouldn't be caught out so easily a second time. Mandy had only been an amateur. This killer, whoever he was, was clearly a seasoned professional. One further slip up by Sweeney on protection duty could have fatal consequences.

.

The murder squad were working flat out on checking up on all of the contacts in Naomi's phone. Every name on the list was being interviewed or, as in several cases, re-interviewed. The IT team had taken the phone away to see if there was anyway they could trace the sender of the message but without a great deal of optimism. The killer clearly knew what he was doing. He knew how to cover his tracks well so that he couldn't be traced. Straw was starting to become very concerned that they had an extremely clever as well as dangerous serial killer on their hands and that spelt trouble with a capital T.

'What did that message that was sent with the photo say, again?' he asked DS Blunt who had returned to the station hotfoot with all the grisly details. Blunt checked her notebook to make sure she gave him the precise wording.

'**Getting closer! Getting closer! I'm almost within touching distance of you now.'**

DI Straw thought hard for a while before starting to bounce ideas off his sergeant. 'What exactly does he mean by that? 'Getting closer' 'Almost within touching distance' Does it mean he's getting physically closer to her? He's near at hand, watching her more closely now? Have Sweeney or Miller reported anything suspicious in the last few days -anyone hanging around the street for no apparent reason?'

DS Blunt shook her head. 'Nothing at all, gov. They've both said it's been very quiet. The only visitor the girls have had recently was the last victim, Mandy.'

'So, if it doesn't mean he's getting physically closer to Miss Campbell, what else can it mean? Emotionally closer perhaps? But how?'

'Maybe he means his victims are getting closer to her, gov. The first victim was Michelle Read whom neither Naomi nor Emily knew at all. The second victim was Mavis Riley whom both girls knew a bit from college. The third victim was Emily's friend Mandy who was known to Naomi as well although it's clear she didn't like her very much.'

'Not just didn't like, it would seem, but was extremely jealous of, by all accounts.'

'Yes, gov. But you see the pattern, don't you?'

DI Straw nodded slowly and looked at DS Blunt thoughtfully. 'Indeed I do, Blunt. You may be on to something there. Starting with a complete stranger, each subsequent victim is someone whom Naomi Campbell progressively knows a little bit more. Of course you realise what that means don't you?'

DS Blunt was already on the point of developing her hastily concocted theory before Straw had foreseen it and hinted at it out loud.

'Yes, gov. The next victim, if there is to be one, _if t_he pattern continues, should be someone Naomi knows even better than Mandy.'

'A good friend, perhaps. Maybe even one of her closest.'

'Christ! What if the next victim he's got in mind is _the_ closest person in the world to Naomi? What if it's Emily?'

'Precisely. Miss Fitch has _got_ to be considered to be in as much danger now as Miss Campbell, I think. Up until now we've been solely concerned with protecting Miss Campbell as she's been seen as the killer's prime target, what with the photos and messages being sent to her. But if we believe this pattern to be deliberate and not a coincidence, then Miss Fitch could be next on the killer's list.'

'_That_'s what he could mean by 'almost within touching distance' of Naomi, couldn't it gov? To really get as close as humanly possible to Naomi, both physically and emotionally, you would have to get past Emily first.'

DI Straw had been wrestling with a thought for some time now but this latest murder and the development by DS Blunt of her persuasive theory of the killer's choices of victim had made his mind up for him. They couldn't afford to take any more risks.

'We're going to have to move the girls out of that house, Blunt. It's becoming far too dangerous to let them carry on living there, even with round the clock protection. The killer knows where they live. He can just wait and choose his moment to attempt to get to the girls even though he knows he has to get past our men.'

DS Blunt couldn't argue with her boss's logic. It made perfect sense whichever way you looked at it. She just couldn't see either of the girls agreeing to move out of their house. She hoped he would take it upon himself to deliver that particular instruction and not delegate it to her. She didn't fancy the prospect of trying to persuade a surly, argumentative and stubborn Naomi Campbell from leaving their cosy little love nest.

Katie was on the point of sitting down to a lazy evening in front of the television with the rest of the Fitch family when she got a call on her mobile. She was delighted to see that it was Effy and she fervently hoped that her friend was calling her with an attractive proposition for the rest of the evening that would give her an excuse to get out of their shithole of a rented flat. An evening stuck at home with Mum, Dad and an increasingly irritating thirteen year old brother was not the stuff of dreams and yet for once she had nothing else planned. Effy, she felt sure, would prove to be her salvation and so, in a way, she turned out to be.

'Hi, Effy,' she said cheerfully. 'What's up? PLEASE tell me you're calling to take me away from an excruciatingly dull evening at home with the Addams Family?'

'Maybe, yes,' replied Effy breathlessly and Katie could clearly a distinct note of excitement in her voice which sounded more than a bit strange.

'What is it, Eff?' Katie was intrigued but also a little scared. She hoped to God Effy hadn't suffered a relapse and gone back on the pills, the drugs and the booze in a big way again. Katie had done her utmost in the last few weeks to look after Effy and keep her on the straight and narrow but even she couldn't be with her twenty-four seven. She did have her own sad, miserable life to lead, such as it was.

'You'll never guess who I've just heard from,' said Effy almost in a whisper.

'Just tell me, babe,' groaned Katie audibly. 'I'm shit at guessing games. We could be here all night otherwise.'

'Cook!' came back the reply, and her tone had risen several degrees in excitement and pitch.

'You're kidding me,' gasped Katie, genuinely shocked yet at the same time pleased to hear that James Cook, the last of Britain's Ten Most Wanted Men, had finally resurfaced after having mysteriously disappeared on the night of the party in Freddie's shed. 'Where the fuck is he? Where the hell did he disappear to?'

'I don't know,' said Effy. 'I haven't actually spoken to him. He's sent me a text message.'

'Oh, is that all?' Katie singularly failed to conceal the disappointment in her voice on hearing the less than spectacular news that Cook hadn't actually bothered to visit her or even speak to Effy in person but had merely sent her a text which, given Cook's texting prowess, was probably no more than a couple of poorly constructed sentences.

'But you haven't heard the best bit, Katie. He says he's got some news about Freddie!'

'What? You're joking! Seriously?'

'I know. Isn't it amazing, Katie? He's asked me to meet up with him later tonight. He said he'll tell me everything then. Can you believe it?'

An unspecific and inexplicable alarm bell started ringing loudly in Katie's head. She didn't want to dampen Effy's obvious excitement and optimism unnecessarily but something didn't seem quite right to her. She couldn't quite put her finger on the reason for her suspicions but she wasn't ready to get carried away with excitement just yet.

'Hang on a moment, Effy. How do you know it was Cook who left the message?'

'Well, it was his mobile number that sent the text message'

'Yeah, but that doesn't mean it was Cook who sent you the message, does it?'

'Besides, he told me to meet him in Freddie's shed. Who else would know about the shed, Katie? Why are you asking all these questions? Don't you want to see Cook again? Don't you want me to find out what's happened to Freddie?'

Katie could tell that Effy was upset and puzzled by her reaction to her friend's fantastic news and she didn't want to make it any worse for her while she was clearly so excited.

'Of course I do, Eff. I'm just worried about you, that's' all. You've had a really shitty time recently, haven't you? I simply don't want you to go building your hopes up again that everything's going to be wonderful and fabulous only to be disappointed. I mean, come on, since when has Cook been someone any of us could rely on?'

'Yeah, I know, I know. But think about Katie. If it's not all a wind-up, I could be seeing Freddie again before the end of the evening!'

Effy sounded to Katie like she was almost bouncing up and down with excitement and Katie had to laugh. 'Okay, okay. We'll have it your way, then. Let's hope you're right. But I don't think you should go there alone. I'm coming with you, alright?'

'No, you mustn't, Katie. I know you mean well but Cook said in his message I should come to the shed alone.'

'I don't care, Effy. I'm not going to let you meet up with anyone on your own late at night, whether it's Cook, Freddie or the fucking Queen of England. I'm coming with you and I'm staying with you until we've met up with Cook. I'm not going to argue with you, Effy, just deal with it, okay?'

'I know you won't want to leave your home, Naomi,' said DI Straw in his best sympathetic voice, 'but for your own safety it's the best thing for you. We can look after both you girls far better in one of our police safe houses.'

'You're absolutely right, Inspector.' said Naomi with a swift nod of her head and a sideways glance at Emily.

'Oh! Good,' said Straw, taken aback that Miss Campbell had acquiesced so meekly. He had been expecting the mother of all arguments and had briefly considered delegating the task to Blunt but thought that he should be the one to stand up to her.

'No, I mean you're right to assume that I wouldn't want to leave here. This is our house! Why should we be made to leave it? Why should we let this sick psycho win, which is what would happen if we left?'

'Naoms, listen to the Inspector. He's right. It's not safe here any more.'

'Miss Emily's quite right, Miss Campbell. It's too big a risk for the pair of you to carry on living here. The killer knows where you are, after all, that much is obvious. You're just an easy target like a sitting duck staying here. Even if I put half a dozen men on the job of protecting you, I can't be absolutely certain that he wouldn't be able to get to either of you somehow'

'What if he has a gun, Naomi? Up till now, he's only used a knife on his victims so he has needed to get right up close to them. What if he decides that if he can't get close enough to you to kill you like the others, he'll just have to try to shoot you from a distance instead?' DS Sweeney knew he was probably scaring the shit out of the girls talking like that but desperate circumstances required desperate measures sometimes

'If we hide the pair of you away in a safe house, he won't know where you are. That means he'll have to try to find out where we've hidden you,' Straw pointed out the bleeding obvious which needed to be said to a disbelieving and sceptical Naomi. 'He will be forced to come out into the open, make some enquiries, and show himself for the first time. That will give us our best chance of finding him. This way we can force him to play his hand, only this time we'll be dealing the cards and we'll have dealt ourselves the ace'

The two policemen and the two young girls argued back and forth for the next ten minutes, each side putting forward their case in equal measure and with equal determination and eloquence. Emily did her best to help the DI by trying to persuade Naomi of the logic and common sense of Straw's reasoning. Eventually, possibly through sheer exhaustion as much as due to the reluctant acceptance of their arguments, Naomi caved in and agreed to leave her house and be put up in a police safe house. But she had one condition which came as something of a shock and surprise to the others when she came out with it.

'I want to go there on my own,' she said in a voice that was shaky and rasping and with tears welling up in her eyes. 'Ems, you should go back home and stay with your Mum and Dad.'

'What? You must be joking. Naoms, why are saying that?' Emily looked thunderstruck at Naomi's suggestion and looked straight into her girlfriend's eyes for an explanation.

'This psycho's after me, not you, Ems. I could never forgive myself if… something happened to you because he tried to get to me and you got hurt by mistake. Please! I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to get killed…..all because of me. Your Mum was right. I can't…I can't ask you to stay with me and put your own life at risk.' She struggled to get the words out and her chest was heaving with the pain and hurt that revealing those feelings was giving her

DI Straw could see this was going to get very personal and extremely emotional between the two girls but he had to carry on doing his job as a policeman and point out that both girls could now be seen as potential targets.

'No!' screamed Emily and burst into floods of tears. 'I'm not leaving you. I don't care what you say. We're together now and we're going to stay together whatever happens. Anyone who wants to harm you will have to get past me first. I don't care how many coppers with guns they give us for protection, he'll have to be bloody Superman to get anywhere near you, coz he's going to have to deal with me.'

'You are _both _potential targets for this man, Miss Campbell. I understand your feelings about protecting Miss Fitch but it will be easier for us to protect you both if you stay together. Now, I really must insist that you both go and pack enough clothes to last a few days at least. We can always arrange for more things to be sent to you later.'

Both girls had more or less collapsed into each others arms and were hugging each other tightly as if they never wanted to let go of each other even for a second. After a few seconds they finally pulled back from each other slightly so that they were gazing into each other's still tear-stained and make-up smudged eyes, wet noses virtually touching.

'Don't you get it,' whispered Emily to Naomi. 'If you were to get killed, then what the hell would I have to live for? I'd want him to kill me as well so I could carry on being with you.'

**AUTHOR'S FOOTNOTE**

A huge thanks once again to all those of you who've continued to hit on the story and take the time to pass on a review (or several, in the case of some fabulously loyal readers!). I still love reading all the theories and ideas that people are coming up with as regards the killer's identity and what might happen next in the story. It's clear that many of you have much more imagination than me – perhaps I should get some of you to collaborate with me during the remainder of the fic! Keep the comments and theories coming – they're brilliant!


	13. Chapter 13

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: After Naomi receives a photo of the dead Mandy on her mobile, the police decide to question all her phone contacts. Effy tells Katie that she has received a text message from Cook, telling her to meet up with him in Freddie's shed later that evening. Naomi finally gives in to pressure from the police and Emily's fears for her safety and reluctantly agrees to them moving in to a police safe house.

.-

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A JOB FOR THE BOYS**

Under the watchful yet sympathetic eyes of DC Sweeney Naomi and Emily had been throwing clothes, toiletries and a few other odds and sods into two holdalls as if they were packing to go away for a dirty weekend together. Naomi wished to God they were doing just that. But somehow the prospects of them spending any romantic time together seemed very bleak and remote. She longed to take Emily to bed and show her just how much she loved her, after what Emily had whispered in her ear a short while before. In fact she couldn't remember ever having wanted Emily physically as much as she did right then, not even on that first occasion down by the lake. But the constant, nagging presence of DC Sweeney, who had rarely been more than a stones throw away from them these last few days, acted as a massive psychological barrier to the full expression of her lustful urges which she had so far been unable to overcome.

As they were stuffing the last few items into their bags, Emily's phone rung and made her jump and involuntarily catch her breath. She looked across at Sweeney hesitantly and sought guidance, with a questioning look, as to whether she should take the call.

'See who it is, 'he said and she picked up the phone and checked the screen. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw who the caller was. 'It's okay, it's only JJ,' she smiled a trifle weakly. 'He's probably wondering what's happened to us.' After a cautious nod from Sweeney and a quick word of advice to say little or nothing about what they were doing, Emily took the call.

'Hi JJ,' she said and listened for a while before replying to his obvious question. 'I'm really sorry but something's cropped up. We aren't going to be able to come over after all.'

Emily explained that she couldn't go into any detail right then but that she and Naomi were going away for a few days and she would call him as soon as they got back. She assured him that everything was fine and that there was nothing to worry about in a manner that was almost convincing enough for her to believe it herself. He seemed to accept her story readily and soon he had rung off, leaving an unhappy Emily feeling awful about having lied to him so appallingly.

'It's horrible having to lie like that to JJ,' she complained to DC Sweeney and Naomi gave her a comforting squeeze of the arm. 'Surely I could have told him what's happened? He's one of our best friends, for Christ's sake!'

'You mustn't tell _anyone_ where you're going or why,' insisted Sweeney with an impassive expression on his face.

'How the hell can we? We haven't got a clue where you're taking us to?' pointed out Naomi with more than a touch of irritation in her voice. It had been bad enough the last five minutes having him in their room closely observing them with a wry grin dig out all their underwear from their drawers and pack them away. Now he was being a complete shit and denying them the chance to let one of their closest friends know what was going on. For a brief second she thought about shopping him to DI Straw after all and getting him removed from the case but there was no guarantee that he would be replaced with anyone more sympathetic and sensitive to a young girl's feelings and insecurities. It was probably a case of better the devil you know, thought Naomi with a small inward sigh of resignation.

'You can't seriously think it could be JJ.' Emily shook her head and stared open-mouthed in total disbelief at Sweeney. 'He's still afraid of the dark. He's terrified of his own shadow!'

Naomi was quick to back up Emily's sadly accurate description of JJ's sweet, kind yet ultimately timid and shy nature. 'He literally wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone another human being. You've met him, haven't you? You must know that, surely?'

'I don't care if you think all your friends are too law-abiding to even drop litter on the street. The boss says **no-one** is to know where you're going or why. He'd have my balls for breakfast if he found out I had let you tell anyone a bloody thing.'

Not if we had them first, thought Naomi as she and Emily reluctantly gave up the unequal struggle and finished packing their stuff away, still huffing and puffing.

-.

'I don't like this, Effy,' said Katie as they set off from Effy's house having met up there as agreed.

'What do you mean?' Effy looked at Katie blankly, still too wrapped up with the thought that she might be seeing Freddie again that night, a thought that was bordering dangerously on an absolutely unshakeable conviction.

'Look, it's like I said earlier. You don't know for certain that it was Cook who sent you that message. I mean, come on, think about it, Eff. How many times can you remember having received a text message from Cook?'

Effy shrugged her shoulders and persisted with the blank, indifferent, unenthusiastic attitude to Katie's continuing line of enquiry. 'I don't know.'

'Less than…one, shall we say?'

'Maybe,' pouted Effy, beginning to resent Katie's efforts to pour cold water on her mounting excitement which was in no mood to be tempered by rational logic and sound reasoning.

'In fact, now I come to think of it I can't remember Cook EVER sending any of us a text message. I'm not even sure he even knows _how _to text!'

'So, what are you trying to say, Katie? That it wasn't him who sent me the message about Freddie? Who would play a shitty trick like that on me?'

'I don't know. What if it's this psycho who's been going around killing all these girls lately? Have you considered _that _possibility for even a second? What if you would be walking into a clever trap? For all you know, he could have had you down as his next victim!'

Effy stared at Katie in silence and gave a slight shudder as the scarily unpleasant scenario that Katie had just so vividly painted played across her mind for the first time that evening. Maybe she _had _after all been so captivated by the prospect of meeting up with Cook and hearing his news about Freddie that she had subconsciously blinded herself to the very real dangers that she might be exposing herself to. Could she have got it all so very wrong?

'Okay,' she said eventually, stopping dead in the street and turning to face Katie. 'What do you suggest we do?'

'Well, we need some protection, don't we?'

'We can't call the police. Cook's still on the run. The cops are still looking for him….theoretically speaking, at least. We can't involve them, for fuck's sake.'

I'm not talking about the police. Of course we can't bring them into it, in case it does turn out to be Cook. No, what we need is some big, tough-looking guy who would frighten the living crap out of anyone who was trying to hurt us or scare us.'

'Do you have anyone in mind?' Effy's quizzical expression betrayed the fact that she couldn't think of a single person they knew who fitted the bill, who was a perfect fir for that very unique job description.

Katie let out a huge sigh of frustration followed by a half strangled scream. 'No! I can't think of anyone, Ef. Come on, you think. There must be someone we know who's just the sort of mad, psychotic nasty piece of work you really need at a time like this.'

The two girls stood in silence for a while, each desperately running through in their head their list of friends and acquaintances, trying to think of someone who wouldn't shrink from the thought of a bit of heavy-duty action if it was asked of them as a special favour by two terribly grateful and extremely attractive young girls.

'I've got it!' shrieked Katie triumphantly just as Effy was on the point of admitting defeat. 'In fact, even better. I can think of two guys who would do the job!'

'Who?' gasped an incredulous Effy, not having got remotely close to coming up with even one name. 'We don't know anyone like that.'

'Yes we do,' beamed Katie broadly. 'Okay, they're not exactly _friends_ as such but they work for someone who I think we can say owes us a favour. The tricky part will be getting in touch with them. Hang on a minute. I'll need to make a few calls.'

Effy watched intrigued and still completely in the dark as to the meaning behind Katie's rather vague and cryptic comments as her friend switched on her mobile and starting scrolling through her contacts to find the number of her first port of call.

Emily and Naomi looked at each other and instinctively knew they were both thinking the same depressing thought. How the hell are we going to survive in this soulless, charmless excuse for a home for more than a day without screaming for help or digging our first escape tunnel? It wasn't that it was a dump or anything like that - far from it, in fact. It had all mod cons, it was relatively recently decorated, it had been kitted out with all the basic requirements of furniture, fixtures and fittings that you would expect of a modern house. In short, it lacked for nothing that a reasonable couple could wish for – except of course warmth, cosiness, charm and those certain special little touches of creativity that a loving couple would come up with to make their home feel uniquely theirs. This felt just so impersonal, functional and cold that the girls immediately sensed that it would be impossible to enjoy many, if any, truly happy moments in it. It had the air of an ultra-modern, ultra-radical open prison block

They mumbled an excuse about unpacking their stuff straight away and retreated hastily upstairs to the main bedroom where they shut the door behind them and fell into each other's arms for comfort and consolation.

'Jesus! This place is just the pits.' Naomi didn't hold back in front of Emily who had displayed commendable good grace and manners in making a few diplomatic, well-judged and appreciative comments about their new temporary home in front of DC Sweeney and the new female DC who had been added to their protection team. But now they were finally alone for a while they could really express their true feelings out loud without fear of upsetting anyone or appearing ungrateful.

'I know, it's awful isn't,' agreed Emily, wrinkling her nose in disapproval. 'It's got as much character and charm as a slug. I want all our things over here!'

'Even if they brought everything over it still wouldn't feel like home, though. Let's hope to God we don't have to stay here long. I think I might go out of my mind if we do. You realise what coming here means, don't you, Ems?'

'What?'

'That we're gonna be grounded until they've got this guy.'

'You're joking. You mean we won't be able to go out at all? Not even if the two coppers come with us?' Emily's face dropped until it almost hit the floor. Clearly Naomi was way ahead of her in having thought this thing through. Much as she adored spending every minute of the day with Naomi, she did need her own space every now and then, like anyone else and she hated being cooped up anywhere for too long. She needed variety and excitement in her life, not an endless stream of identical days which all seemed to merge into one interminably long, dull, lifeless day.

Naomi saw Emily's sad, disappointed expression and pulled her gently towards her, placing her hands delicately on her cheekbones and planting a long, passionate kiss on her moist, red lips. Ems clearly needed cheering up, she thought and even though a session of full, unbridled, wild sex was out of the question, what with the two DC's downstairs or even mooching around on the landing outside for all she knew, a bit of serious mouth to mouth resuscitation certainly would go a long way to improving both their moods.

'So, come on, Katie, tell me, what the fuck's going on? Who are we waiting for?'

Katie merely gave Effy an enigmatic smirk and continued to mutter vague generalities along the lines of 'Just wait and see. They'll be here any minute.'

Effy pursed her lips and shook her head, more in amusement than in irritation. Katie could be so very mysterious and secretive when she wanted to be. Sometimes this exaggerated cloak and dagger routine drove Effy mad with frustration but mostly it was one of her more endearing qualities and more often than not made her laugh. She was such a performer, as Katie. Effy knew she loved the attention and self-importance that such well rehearsed over-dramatisation inevitably provoked.

A couple of minutes later a car tooted loudly and drew up alongside the two girls who were hanging around at the corner of the street underneath the full glare of a lamp post so they could be easily recognised.

'Here they are,' said Katie, moving slowly but purposefully towards the back of the car and opening one of the doors. 'Come on, Eff. Our carriage awaits.'

Effy couldn't see terribly clearly who was sitting in the front of the car as the windscreen was tinted and it was now quite dark once they moved away from the bright light of street lamp. She dutifully went round to the other side and got into the back to join Katie who was already sitting inside and greeting their chaperones for the night.

'You remember Effy, don't you, guys?'

Two broadly smiling faces turned round from the front seats to offer a polite greeting to Effy and as soon as she saw their faces and recognised them she let out a gasp of surprise.

'We certainly do,' said the first of Johnny White's faithful right hand men who was sitting in the driver's seat.

'Ooh, how could we forget such a beautiful young lady as Effy?' added the second heavy in the passenger seat with a respectful and appreciative nod of approval to Effy who immediately collapsed in a fit of giggles at the sheer audacity of Katie's plan.

'Are we all set then, guys? Are you warmed up and ready to rumble?' asked Katie.

'Oh, we're always ready for a good punch-up, Miss Katie, believe you me,' said Dumb. 'You just give us the nod and we'll go steaming in.'

'You just can't beat a bit of mindless brutality, can you? I always think it rounds the day off nicely, don't you reckon?' Dumber looked across at his fellow henchman for confirmation which he instantly received.

'Oh, I should say so. It always gives me a nice, warm feeling inside when I can give some evil bastard a bloody good kicking. Makes you feel good to be alive, if you know what I mean.'

'Unlike the poor, miserable bastard, of course,' Dumber pointed out and the two men burst out laughing. 'Now, you just sit back and relax, girls. We'll take care of this for you, don't you worry. Now, where are we going?'

Katie gave them brief directions after which she and Effy smiled at each other and leaned back into the soft, warm, comfortable seats.

'How the fuck did you get Johnny White to agree to let us borrow his boys for the night?' whispered a still gobsmacked Effy in between giggles.

'I told him that if he didn't want us to spread the word all around town about him losing the chilli-eating challenge to Thomas, then he'd better lend us his two apes for the evening.'

'And he fell for it?'

'Let's just say he didn't want to take the risk. Besides, I said there _might _be something in it for him later.' Katie pouted provocatively and winked at Effy causing both girls to throw their heads back and laugh themselves silly all the way to Freddie's house.

At around the same time as Katie and Effy were being picked up by Johnny White's heavies, a tall, lean figure, dressed in a dark coloured hoody and with his face masked by the hood that had been pulled well over his head. confidently slipped round the side of Freddie's house and strode noiselessly in his trainers into the back garden. He stopped to glance at his watch and look round to confirm that there were no lights on in the house as he had expected. He made straight for the shed and within seconds he had opened the door and crept inside, pulling the door to behind him.

He stood motionless for a few moments, allowing his eyes to gradually become accustomed to the tiny amount of light that was shining into the shed through the cracks in the curtains. Apart from that small shaft of brightness it was pitch black inside and he looked around to consider where the best place would be to hide. After taking account of all the limited options available to him he decided that he might as well just hang back hard against the wall by the door and lie in wait there. When she arrived she would doubtless open the door and edge into the shed, allowing him an easy opportunity to slip out from behind the open door and pounce on her from the back. It would be all over in seconds, he reckoned. He couldn't imagine her putting up much resistance – she would be too shocked and terrified to put up much of a struggle.

He leaned nonchalantly up against the wall in silence and felt confident enough that he had a good few minutes in hand to light a cigarette and enjoy a 'pre-dinner' smoke. He dug a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of fags, popping one into his mouth and searching around for his lighter which it took him a bit of time to find. He was concentrating so hard on rummaging around in all his pockets to find the elusive lighter and cursing softly and vehemently to himself until he eventually came upon it that he never heard the tiniest of movements behind him. A second shadowy figure, not quite as tall and lean perhaps but a sleek, lithe mover nonetheless, someone very light on their feet, tiptoed his way along the wall until he was no more than a few feet away from him and waited for the moment to strike.

At the precise instant that the first visitor to the shed flicked the lighter with his thumb and the bright orange flame leapt out and, for the briefest of milliseconds, temporarily blinded him, the second visitor pounced on him and got him in a stranglehold, with a strong, bulging, muscled arm wrapped tight around his throat and the other arm coming around his wriggling body to inflict the first of several well-judged stabs into his stomach, his side and eventually, as the victim started to collapse onto the ground in agony, the chest area.

The assailant was dragged down with his victim but never once letting go of the fearsome stranglehold that he had him in, which the victim could do nothing to break, no matter how much he tried with desperately flailing and scratching arms and fingers. He had been taken completely by surprise and consequently had been unable to react sufficiently in time to stop the massive advantage that his assailant had enjoyed. He was down and out in next to no time, a quivering, gasping, croaking wreck, spurting blood out of practically every orifice and wheezing his last breaths like an old steam train that was badly in need of some tender loving care.

After a while the spasms of futile resistance subsided and the body lay lifeless and motionless on the floor. The assailant stood calmly over it for a few final gratuitous seconds, bloody knife in hand, watching intently, making sure that he was dead. Finally satisfied that all life was extinct, he laughed grimly. Suddenly the sound of voices close at hand and footsteps walking across gravel gave him a start. Shit! He would have liked to have removed the body and dumped it somewhere else but now he no longer had time. He had to hide from sight and hope that no-one came into the shed or, if they did, that the sight of the body frightened them all off, thus allowing him a chance to dispose of it when they were gone.

He slipped back into the darkest recesses of the room, well hidden from the tiny beams of light that were still filtering in through the window. He held his breath and waited. The voices were no more than whispers but they were getting nearer all the time.

'Now, you girls stand well back, do you hear?' said Dumb. 'We'll go in first and check it out, see who's there and if it's safe for you to join us. Okay?'

Effy and Katie nodded and, instinctively clinging nervously on to each other for comfort and moral support, hung well back from the two heavies who confidently walked over to the shed door, opened it and peeped inside. After a brief glance around they went inside, leaving the door half open behind and then pulled up short when they almost tripped over the body lying in a pool of blood on the ground. They looked at each other and bent down to turn the body over onto its back so they could see his face which was unfamiliar to them.

Dumber walked over and popped his head around the door and called over to Katie and Effy. 'Um. I don't know how to tell you this, girls, but I think we've arrived too late.'

'What do you mean?' asked a worried Katie and she shot a glance at Effy who had turned quite pale and looked like she was going to faint..

'I think you should come and have a look.' Effy ran over to the shed, swiftly followed by Katie and both girls stepped inside and stood next to Dumb and Dumber, gazing down at the dead body that was staring up at them with dull, lifeless eyes. Effy screamed when she saw his face and her hand flew up to her face to stop herself from being sick on the spot...Katie looked down at the dead man with a numbness and a sense of total bewilderment that this person could have turned up dead in Freddie's shed.

.


	14. Chapter 14

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi and Emily are taken to their new safe house and discover that a new female DC has been added to their protection team. Katie enlists the help of Johnny White's henchmen for protection when she and Effy go to meet up with Cook. Two mysterious, unidentified figures clash in the shed and one of them stabs the other before hiding on hearing the girls arrive. Johnny White's boys enter to find the dead body lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the shed.

.-

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PSYCHO KILLER, RUN, RUN, RUN AWAY!**

After an awkward, eerie silence that was so strained and intense that one could have heard a pin drop, although not apparently the nervous breathing of another person hiding in the shed, one of Johnny White's henchmen asked the obvious question.

'Do either of you girls know who he is?'

Effy turned her pale, drawn face towards Dumb – or it might have been Dumber, it's hard to distinguish between the two, at least on an intellectual level – and croaked a whispered response which betrayed the state of utter confusion and bewilderment that she was in.

'It's my therapist. It's Doctor Foster!'

'Your therapist?' He considered Effy's surprising reply carefully for a moment or two before following it up with an observation which in the circumstances was unusually perceptive. 'This is a bit of an odd place to have a session with your therapist, if you don't mind me saying, love.'

'Yeah,' agreed his mate, nodding as he looked around him. 'I mean, there's no couch to lie down on. A therapist always has a nice, comfortable couch for his patient to lie down on.'

'She wasn't expecting to meet him here!' said an exasperated Katie who could see how distressed Effy was, although it was hard to tell how much of her distress was down to finding the brutally savaged body of Dr Foster and how much of it was the crushing disappointment of not meeting up with Freddie or even Cook as she had hoped.

'Oh,' said Dumb, a trifle bashfully, guessing that he had got the wrong end of the stick. 'I'm sorry, Effy. I didn't mean to upset you. So, what's this guy doing here if he wasn't the one you were supposed to be meeting?'

'I don't know,' said Effy tearfully, shaking her head. 'None of this makes any sense. I thought he had moved away from Bristol. He told me he was leaving to take up another job somewhere else.'

Katie could see the guys' perplexed expressions as they struggled to comprehend who and what they were dealing with and decided to fill them in on their reason for being there.

'Effy got a text message earlier on from Cook telling her to meet him here tonight, saying he had some news about her boyfriend, Freddie, who went missing a few weeks ago. She was hoping to see Freddie tonight, or at least Cook with some news.'

'I see,' said Dumb, marginally the smarter of the two, for whom the penny was finally starting to drop. 'But instead of finding Freddie or Cook, alive and well, we appear to have found your therapist, very much dead.'

'I don't understand what he was doing here or who could have killed him!' shrieked Effy who was starting to get the shakes again, having fought valiantly to keep control of her senses since seeing the dead body. Katie put an arm around her horrified friend and led her slowly out of the shed, judging that there was no need for them all to be standing around a dead body any longer. She was obviously heavily in shock and needed to be pulled away from the appalling scene without delay.

'Well, this is a bit of a turn up for the book, isn't it?' said Dumber to his comrade-in-arms as they watched the girls leave the shed. 'What do you think we should do?'

'I don't know, mate. Do you think we should call the boss?'

'Ooooh, I'm not sure about that. I can't see him being very pleased at being disturbed. I think he was on a bit of a promise tonight.'

'Really? Who with?'

'Why, with that young Katie, I think.'

They looked at each other and frowned, puffing their cheeks out in almost perfect synchronicity. 'I can't see Katie being much in the mood for romance tonight, can you? Not after a shock like that. It would put me right off sex, a dead body, I can tell you.'

'How would you know? When did you last have sex?'

His mate pondered the leading question for a while before smiling as the answer suddenly came to him. 'It were a Tuesday, I think. Yeah, that's right. Definitely a Tuesday.'

'Tuesday last week?' His mate looked at him in disbelief. 'No way!'

'No! It were some time last year! But it was definitely a Tuesday.'

Katie returned to break up the philosophical musings of Dumb and Dumber with a pointed question. 'What the fuck are we going to do, boys? We can't leave the body here. Freddie's Dad and sister still live here. Suspicion's bound to fall on them, for Christ's sake.'

The heavies muttered their agreement on that point and made the executive decision that the body had to be moved and dumped somewhere else far away from Freddie's house.

'You just leave it to us, Katie my love. You go and look after Effy, you hear. We can see she's very upset. We'll take care of everything.'

Katie nodded and thanked Dumb and Dumber profusely for agreeing to dispose of the body, giving them each a lingering peck on the cheek for helping her and Effy out in their hour of need. The two boys beamed broadly like Cheshire cats and shuffled their feet to hide their embarrassment, unused as they were to receiving such a show of affection and gratitude from such a beautiful young girl. It was with considerable sadness and regret that they watched Katie lead a still badly shaken Effy out of the garden before disappearing from view around the side of the house.

'She's a lovely girl, that Katie, isn't she?' said Dumb admiringly, letting out the heavy sigh of a man who knew he'd just allowed a sure thing to get away from him.

'Smashing girl,' agreed Dumber. 'Mind you, I could have sworn her name was Emily, not Katie.'

Emily's mood had picked up considerably in the last couple of hours or so since they had set foot inside their temporary new home. A nice little smooching session with Naomi in the bedroom had helped, admittedly carried out initially with a degree of trepidation that one of the officers might suddenly burst into the room without warning or even so much as a by your leave. But amazingly they had been left undisturbed which Emily had put down to the instructions of the new police woman rather than a change of attitude on the part of DC Sweeney.

She had always had the impression when he was living in their house that he was perpetually and creepily fascinated by the two of them living together as a couple and was constantly looking out for any outward signs of affection between her and Naomi as if he was suddenly going to produce a camera from nowhere and get the evidence on film to show round the station when he got the chance. He gave her the willies, so to speak, and she was mightily relieved when this new female officer turned up to increase the level of their protection.

She had found out that her name was Cathy and although it was still very early days and Emily knew it was dangerous to go jumping to conclusions too soon, it did seem as if she very nice and a huge improvement on DC Sweeney in terms of sensitivity, understanding of their awkward situation and unsurprisingly the level of conversation. It had only taken an hour or so for Emily and Naomi to realise that they had exhausted all the possible topics of conversation between them and Sweeney. Cathy appeared to offer the potential to be a much more interesting and amusing companion and the girls had spent a fun last hour and a half chatting away to her in the kitchen whilst DC Sweeney was giving a passable impression of a couched potato in front of the TV in the lounge.

Pizza had been ordered in for the four of them from a local delivery outlet and the three girls had been tucking into theirs at the kitchen table together whilst Sweeney was eating his straight from the box sitting on the sofa so as not to miss any of his favourite cop programme.

'So, you didn't fancy snuggling up to DC Sweeney on the sofa and watch yet another repeat of Inspector Morse with him?' Naomi asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit greedily into the last slice of her pizza.

'Jesus! I'd rather stick pins into my arm or perhaps hack my head off with a rusty meat cleaver.' Cathy snorted in derision at Naomi's obviously sarcastic suggestion.

'Don't you two get on, then?' Emily laughed at Cathy's response and exchanged a knowing smile with Naomi.

'It's not so much that we don't get on. It's more that we seem to have absolutely nothing in common. He's about as far removed from the sort of people I like to hang out with as it's possible to get.'

'And what sort of people are they?' Naomi was interested to find out what she was really like but already she had found her to be far more pleasant and amusing company than ever likely to be.

'Oh, you know, just ordinary, down to earth, straightforward people with no ridiculous hang-ups, no pathetic caveman, Neanderthal attitudes, no ideas about women which are still stuck in the Middle Ages.'

'Who can you be referring be?' Surely you don't mean DC Sweeney? But he's such a sweet, modern, New Age Man type of guy.' Naomi didn't bother to lower her voice, seemingly past caring whether the aforementioned dinosaur could hear her in the other room.

The three of them sniggered conspiratorially and immediately Emily felt a bond had been forged, a connection had been made with Cathy which she hoped might sustain her and Naomi through the difficult days ahead. She was a very pretty young woman, medium height, slim, with long dark hair and emerald green eyes that always suggested a roguish hint of a smile whatever the situation. Emily guessed her to be in her mid to late twenties as she said she had joined the police force straight from school and had been in it for almost ten years.

'Has he been giving you any grief, then? Cathy asked, drinking the last mouthful of her fizzy drink and wiping her mouth with her serviette.

'No, not t really,' said Emily.

'Oh, come on, Ems. You told me he gives you the creeps half the time. We couldn't walk around the house even half-dressed without him staring at us like some creepy perv. You said you felt like he was thinking 'Come on girls, get down and dirty for me, show us what you can do, you naughty little lezzers.'

'Oh, Jesus Christ! I'll have a word with him on the quiet and tell him to stop acting like a total nobhead. I'll tell him _he'_s the one who's in the minority here so he can stop acting like some big macho stud otherwise we'll put it around the station that we've discovered he's into gay porn.'

Emily and Naomi burst out into fits of laughter and the three of them made such a noise with their hysterical cackling that Sweeney was prompted to haul himself off the sofa in the living room and come out into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about. His puzzled, innocent face served only to set the three young women off on one again and he was despatched smartly out of the women-only club and back to the comfort of his lounge-lizard pit with a few suitably disparaging remarks along the lines of 'You wouldn't understand, Sweeney' and 'Trust me, you'd rather not know.'

It took Johnny White's boys a good half an hour to clean up the unsightly mess of a dead body surrounded by a tell-tale pool of blood in the middle of the shed. Firstly they had to get something to wrap the body of John Foster in. Dumber disappeared for five minutes, leaving Dumb on his own standing next to the body, shaking his head in frustration and tutting away quietly to himself. He could scarcely believe his eyes at the lack of craftsmanship and quality nowadays in terminatory services. 'God, there are some real bloody cowboys around!' he thought. 'What a mess they've made of the place. No finesse, no planning, no style. It's all a bit of a bloody shambles. Just as well we turned up to put it all right!'

His mate returned with a large sheet of tarpaulin and the two of them carefully lifted up the dead body of John Foster and placed him on it, then wrapped it around him and tied up the two ends so that he was properly secured. They then carried him out into the garden and swiftly round the side of the house and towards the back of the car which had been reversed up the path as far as it could go without drawing an unwarranted amount of attention. Not that there was a soul to be seen at that time of night although experience told them not to take any chances.

After loading the corpse into the boot of the car they returned to the shed where they set about the final task of removing all the remaining evidence by cleaning up the dark red pool of blood that lay testament to the brutality of the killing which they had walked in on. All the while they were mopping up the blood with an impressive array of rags and cleaning equipment, a silent shadowy figure at the back of the shed watched them with a keen interest, fervently hoping that he wouldn't be discovered and so would not be required to add two further bodies to his list of victims for the evening.

Ten minutes later and the boys were finished, pausing only to admire their handiwork which now completely concealed the fact that a fatal stabbing had ever taken place in the shed. They nodded at each other in approval and went on their way, closing the shed door quietly behind them and slipping furtively out through the garden and into the cold, dark autumn night. The figure at the back of the shed heard them leave but gave it another couple of minutes before judging that they weren't coming back and that it was safe to come out of his hiding place.

He stood on the spot where the body had been sprawled only a short while ago and murmured his own approval. These fellows were certainly professionals, he thought. They knew their stuff and no mistake. There wasn't a spot of blood left – all traces of the murder he had committed had been expertly removed with cold, clinical precision, He would have liked to be able to thank then for the trouble they had saved him but he knew that wasn't ever going to be possible. He was glad now that he hadn't been forced to kill them as well in order to protect himself. Besides, disposing of one dead body wouldn't have presented too many difficulties but getting rid of _three _– well, that would have been a completely different kettle of fish. That could have been tricky and messy so he was relieved to have been spared that particular ordeal.

He peered out through the window into the garden and up at the house which was still shrouded in darkness and decided he might as well fuck off out of there as well. There was nothing to be gained in hanging around any longer – his mission had been accomplished and it was time to move on to the next step. This bit had been relatively simple to carry out. The next part was a whole new ball game and one that he wasn't especially looking forward to. He needed to give it some serious thought and so he automatically reached a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. He inhaled deeply for several seconds before blowing out the smoke into the crisp, cool evening air, enjoying that special feeling an addicted smoker gets when he can finally light up a fag after having previously been denied the pleasure.

After Katie had dragged Effy away from Freddie's house and the appalling sight of Foster's mutilated corpse lying prostrate on the ground in the shed, she decided that her friend should not be left on her own that night. She could see that she was still badly shaken up by the whole shocking experience and although she herself was more affected by it than she was letting on to Effy, she knew she needed to be strong for her and be there for her to help her recover.

'You're coming back to our place, Effy,' said Katie with a quiet determination in her voice that made it clear that she would accept no protests from her friend. But Effy was in no fit state to argue with Katie and nodded silently in agreement. She called her Mum to let her know that she was staying round at Katie's for the night, keeping the conversation as brief as possible so her Mum couldn't detect the distress she was suffering. The girls were soon back at the Fitch retreat and after a few vague and empty pleasantries had been exchanged with Jenna and Rob, Katie led a muted and stunned Effy up the stairs and into her bedroom.

No sooner had Katie closed the door behind them than Effy burst into tears. Katie pulled the sobbing, clearly freaked out girl over towards her and hugged her tightly, rubbing her consolingly on the back and mumbling a few inconsequential words of comfort and support as one does in times of stress and anguish.

'It's okay, Eff, it's okay. It's just delayed shock, that's all. You need to get it out of your system. You have a good cry, you'll feel much better afterwards, I promise.'

Effy took Katie very much at her word and had a damn good cry for several minutes whilst Katie held her and offered whispered encouragements. After a while Effy's sobs began to subside and soon she stopped altogether whereupon the two girls sat down next to each other on the bed and looked at each other in stunned silence.

'I don't understand any of this, Katie,' said Effy eventually, rubbing her red, tear-stained eyes with the back of her hand and reaching into a pocket for a tissue. 'Why was Dr. Foster in the shed in the first place? Who could possibly have wanted to kill him? And where was Cook? Why didn't he show up?'

'Has it occurred to you that maybe it was Dr. Foster who sent you the text message? He could have wanted to meet up with you for some reason and someone found out and killed him?' Katie's mind was racing like the clappers, desperately trying to make some sense of the bizarre and extraordinary events of that evening. She wasn't used to thinking on this sort of intellectual scale and hence it wasn't long before she had the mother of all headaches, largely due to all this unaccustomed brainpower.

'But if it was him who sent me the message, how come he was using Cook's phone? That doesn't make sense, does it?'

'I don't know. I mean, Cook disappeared off the face of the earth just like Freddie. Maybe…oh God, my brain hurts! Maybe he met up with Foster somehow and….I don't know, perhaps he lost his phone and Dr Foster found it and used it to text you.'

Effy shook her head from side to side. She wasn't having any of that. 'But Cook didn't know Foster. They never even met. _Freddie_ met Foster on a couple of occasions when he came to visit me at the clinic.'

'Well, maybe Freddie, Cook and Foster have all ended up in the same place for some reason.' It was a fairly lame and unconvincing theory, she knew but like Effy she was totally baffled and was clutching at straws to come up with a credible explanation for the irrational sequence of events.

'Who would want to kill Dr. Foster, for Christ's sake? He was so nice to me and made me feel so much better about myself. Why would anyone want to harm him, Katie? He wouldn't have hurt a fly!'

Katie shook her head and put an arm around Effy's shoulders. 'I don't know, babe. None of it makes any sense at the moment. But one thing I do know, Effy. We can't tell _anyone _about what happened tonight. Agreed? Not just yet, at any rate. Not until we've thought things through a bit more. And maybe not even then. Okay?'

Effy fell silent again and nodded meekly, staring down at the bed, fighting to keep hold of her senses and not freak out all over again. What she really wanted more than anything was to have Freddie there by her side. He would know what to do; he would come out with the right words to comfort her and make all the pain and suffering go away. Where the fuck was he for when she needed him most? She yearned for him right at that moment more than she had ever done before.

'Yes!' screamed Naomi in delight on throwing the five that she wanted. She triumphantly pumped her right fist in the air and demanded a high five from an exasperated Emily sitting opposite her. She moved her bright yellow coloured playing piece into the space in the middle of the board and sat back in anticipation, waiting patiently for the other two girls to have a debate over what subject to choose for her.

The three girls had been playing Trivial Pursuit for over an hour and a half and Naomi and Cathy were battling it out as they neared the end of the game. Emily had been left floundering in their wake but was enjoying watching the keenly fought contest between the other two. Naomi was as competitive as she always was whenever she took part in any contest, whether it was just for a bit of fun or if something serious was at stake. Emily knew Naomi hated losing at anything and had fully expected her to win the game quite comfortably but she had been surprised at how clever and knowledgeable Cathy had proved to be. In a weird kind of way she was thoroughly enjoying watching Naomi being put under immense pressure by the detective constable and was managing to wind up Naomi very successfully with some well-judged little quips, remarks and asides.

'We've got to choose sport, Cathy,' said Emily confidently, flashing a quick glance at Naomi to observe her immediate reaction. 'She knows almost as little about sport as I do. It's easily her worst subject.'

'I think you're right, Emily,' nodded Cathy with a wide grin as Naomi looked on impassively, making a determined effort to keep her feelings in check. 'Go on, then, read her the question. Let's see how she stands up to the pressure.'

Emily picked out the next available card in the box and after searching for the sports option, grinned hugely and smiled. 'Oh, this is a nice easy one for you, Naoms. '' Which golfer holds the record for the most number of career majors won?''

'Fuck me!' said Naomi with a sigh of annoyance, turning her eyes up to the heavens in disgust. 'Why couldn't it have been a football question, at least? I don't know…um….hold on a minute! Surely…it's got to be Tiger Woods!'

Emily looked at the card, then across at Cathy whose face remained expressionless and then over to a suddenly hopeful Naomi who was beginning to think she might have got it right. 'Is that your answer?'

Naomi nodded expectantly. 'Bad luck, sweetheart. It's Jack Nicklaus with eighteen.'

'Bollocks!' said Naomi, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

'Thank you, vicar,' remarked Cathy with a wide grin. 'I think it's my turn now. Come on darling,' she whispered to the dice which she had picked up from the board and was now cradling in her hand. 'Let's have a nice little three, shall we?'

Cathy threw the dice onto the board and smiled as the three appeared face up. Naomi made an indescribable sound of frustration and had a quick discussion with Emily after which they agreed to select the subject of Science & Nature for Cathy which Naomi was convinced had been her shakiest topic in the game so far. The question was read out by Naomi and answered correctly by Cathy after much silent deliberation and prolonged contemplation of the table. The DC celebrated her win with a yell of triumph and a hilariously exaggerated dance around the room, leaving a pissed off Naomi and a laughing Emily watching her with a mixture of envy and amusement.

The girls packed away the board game and prepared to turn in for the night, Naomi being the first to say goodnight to Cathy and go up the stairs and claim the bagging rights to the bathroom first. Emily joined her some five minutes later after helping Cathy to tidy up the kitchen and headed straight for their bedroom, seeing the light was still on in the bathroom.

She opened the door and moved into the room but before her hand could switch the light on she was grabbed from behind and a hand was pressed over her mouth, though not roughly this time compared with the previous occasion. A familiar voice calmed her racing heart before she could think of screaming as she heard a whisper in her ear.

'Don't even think about screaming, sweetheart. Resistance is useless. I'm going to fuck your brains out. Miss Thicky's feeling horny!'

.


	15. Chapter 15

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: A horrified Effy identifies the dead body in the shed as that of Dr Foster. Katie takes a badly shaken back to her place leaving Johnny White's boys to clean up the mess and get rid of the body. Dr Foster's killer hides and watches the boys leave with the body before making his own escape from the shed. Emily and Naomi spend a fun evening in the safe house getting to know DC Cathy a little better.

.-

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: STIR CRAZY **

There's nothing quite like the smell of a cooked breakfast in the morning permeating one's nostrils on waking up from a deep sleep to fill one with hope and optimism for the day ahead. So it was that when Emily opened her eyes at a little after nine o'clock the sounds and smells of eggs, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and fried bread being cooked were already wafting up the stairs and through the crack between the door and the carpet. She breathed in the culinary sensations deeply and avidly before turning over and shaking a still dozing Naomi gently by the shoulder.

'Naoms, wake up. Breakfast's being cooked. The full Monty by the smell of it.'

Naomi grunted a sort of acknowledgement of Emily's cheery morning greeting but other than that barely stirred a muscle.

'Aren't you hungry? I'm absolutely starving. I could really murder a fry-up this morning. Come on!'

She leaned in to the platinum blonde and kissed her softly on the left cheek that was turned towards her. Disappointed to see that this tactic failed to provoke any reaction whatsoever she then decided to play dirty and on a sudden, mischievous impulse, licked Naomi's nose with one deliberate stroke of her warm, moist tongue. That usually did the trick and this occasion was to prove no exception as Naomi immediately let out a shrill, strangled cry of protest. An arm miraculously appeared from underneath the duvet and instantly wiped away the wetness from her nose as accusing, sleep-ridden eyes struggled to focus on her girlfriend.

'Thanks, Ems. I really need that first thing in the morning.'

'Sorry, Miss Grumpy. I see you're not in the mood for playing like you were last night, then?'

Naomi let out a huge yawn and attempted a wry smile. 'That was then and this is now. Last night I was extremely horny. Right now I 'm just tired. You go and have breakfast. I'll join you in a little while.'

She turned over onto her side again and hugged the pillow with her arms, pressing her head into its soft warmth and closing her eyes to indicate the end of the discussion. Emily sighed and admitted defeat. She knew when she was beaten. When Naomi wanted to sleep she could get very grumpy and crotchety if you tried to stop her. Emily got out of bed, threw on her dressing gown and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. The breakfast smells were even stronger and more tempting out on the landing and she almost skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen where she found Cathy slaving over a hot frying pan on the stove.

'Morning!' said Cathy with a smile. 'Fancy some breakfast?'

'You bet!' Emily smiled back and came over to her to see what she was cooking. She'd been right – it was the works, all sizzling away nicely in two large frying pans.

'What do you want?' asked Cathy. 'Take your pick. There's toast and tea or coffee to come as well.'

'Oh, I think I'll have the full cholesterol special, please! I'm absolutely famished. God knows why. I don't usually have a full cooked breakfast, but this morning I could eat a horse.'

'Sorry, they were right out of horse meat at the supermarket. You'll have to make do with bacon and sausage I'm afraid.'

'Jesus. I'm not staying at this hotel again!' Emily feigned indignation and the face she pulled made Cathy laugh. Emily giggled in response and thought it was only fair that she helped Cathy by making the drinks. 'Where's Naomi?' asked Cathy, raising her eyebrows as she got the plates out of the overhead cupboards.

'Oh, she's still in the land of Nod. I tried to get her up but she wasn't having any of it. She'll join us later. She's never been great first thing in the morning. She loves her sleep.'

'Whereas _you_ like to be up and about?'

Emily nodded. 'Yeah, I 'm not one for lying in bed all morning. You can miss out on so much, can't you? I like to be busy all the time, you know.'

'So you two aren't exactly the same, then?' Cathy started serving the food onto two plates whilst continuing the conversation

'No. Definitely not. Naomi's much more laid back than I am, much more chilled out.'

The DC brought the plates of food over to the table and joined Emily, sitting down opposite her and taking a sip of piping hot coffee from the mug that Emily had put done for her. 'How do you think she's coping, Emily?' she asked with a serious and concerned expression on her face.

'Well, she's a pretty tough cookie at the best of times. I mean, I know she's pretty freaked out by the whole thing but she's trying to put on a brave face for my sake. She's worried about it affecting me.'

Cathy nodded and gave Emily a reassuring smile. She'd guessed as much already in the short time she'd known the two girls. Naomi was the headstrong, feisty, confident one, Emily the shyer, more delicate, more sensitive one. But they seemed a perfect match despite their fundamentally different personalities, she thought. She saw them as a really cute, loving couple and for a brief few seconds she felt a pang of jealousy at their obvious happiness together. She wanted what they had. She wanted someone to adore her just like they clearly adored each other.

'And what about you? How are you dealing with it?'

Emily fell silent, stared down at her plate and poked her food around a bit as if she was hadn't heard the question. Eventually she forced herself to look up and it was with a few tears in her eyes when she gave her honest answer.

'I'm completely terrified, if you want the truth. I'm so frightened that this killer is going to get to her and hurt her. I don't know what I'd do if that happened.'

She burst into tears and her shoulders started shaking up and down uncontrollably. Cathy stopped eating, reached out a hand across the table and squeezed her arm comfortingly. She looked into Emily's eyes and saw real pain and fear, the kind of deep anguish that you see in people who feel utterly helpless and at a loss as to what to do to stop themselves from spiralling into a vortex of doom and despair.

'Everything'll be fine Emily, I promise you. No-one will be able to hurt Naomi or you. You're both perfectly safe here. No-one else knows about this place except the senior officers on the case. Besides, DC Sweeney and I will be with the two you all the time to protect you. No-one will get past us, trust me.'

Cathy nodded enthusiastically and patted Emily's arm, giving her a comforting smile.

'Are you both trained to do this sort of stuff, then?' said Emily rather dubiously, thinking that Cathy seemed altogether too nice and mild-mannered to be a hard-nosed bodyguard.

'Oh, yes. Don't be fooled by this sweet, soft exterior. Behind this innocent-looking face beats the heart of a ruthless and fearless officer who will take anyone down if necessary in order to carry out her duty.'

Emily stopped crying and forced a weak smile at the image conjured up by Cathy of a modern-day Wonder Woman who could perfume death-defying stunts and not leave a trace of make-up smudged.

'Did you remember to bring your Wonder Woman costume with you?' Emily asked, trying the old trick of using humour to fight off her real feelings of anxiety and doubt.

'Shit! I knew I'd forgotten something.' Cathy was glad that Emily had cheered up a little and was trying to laugh her way out of the difficult situation she had found herself in through no fault of her own. She had a horrible feeling which she wisely kept to herself that Emily was going to need every bit of that sense of humour in the coming days if she was to get through this experience unscathed

-.

Katie had been sitting on the side of her bed in silence for some time now watching Effy who was still sound asleep. It was unlike Katie to have any meaningful thoughts running through her head at such an early time of the day but that morning was fast becoming the exception that proved the rule. It seemed inconceivable to her that she should be so worried and afraid for this girl who, not much more than a year ago, had knocked her over the head with a rock and left her unconscious all night after a drunken, drug-filled teenage fight over some boy who neither of them had even seen in over a month now. She couldn't begin to imagine that back then she would have willingly given up her warm, comfortable bed for that bitter love rival and been prepared to kip down for the night in a sleeping bag on the floor instead. But she had come a long way since those fraught, emotional days when she was happy to pick a fight with anyone whom she perceived was standing in the way of what she mistakenly thought she wanted or was important in her life.

She had mellowed a lot over the last twelve months or so: fighting over a boy didn't seem half as important now as it did then. She had come to realise that there were things far more important in life than some random, tall, half decent looking guy. Friendship for one thing; family was another, not to mention the simple unadulterated joy of just being alive. And it was that which worried Katie the most about Effy. Was she still happy to be alive? Did she still wake up every morning full of hope and optimism for what the day might bring? Or was each new day for her yet one more long drawn out twenty-four hours of agony, false hope and despair which became ever more unbearable and pointless?

Katie was worried about how the events of the previous evening might have affected Effy. She had been so convinced that she was finally going to meet up with Freddie after he had so mysteriously vanished without warning. To not see her boyfriend again must have been bad enough but to have stumbled across the brutally murdered body of the one man whom she had come to thank these past few months for enabling her to reclaim her sanity and her will to live again – well, Katie couldn't imagine how crushing a blow that must have been for her. She suddenly felt even more protective towards her than before. She felt, in a weird sort of way, responsible for her as if she had a moral duty to take care of her and protect her from all the horrible things that life had seemed determined to throw at her.

It was uncannily as if Effy had been hearing Katie thinking about her. Right on cue the sleeping beauty opened her eyes and looked straight ahead of her, letting out a small gasp of surprise at seeing her friend studying her so intently. Katie smiled warmly, anxious to put her out her ease immediately and Effy returned the greeting with a forced smile of her own although Katie was far from convinced about how genuine it was.

'Morning, Effy. How are you feeling?'

'I don't know. Numb, I guess. Unless you can tell me I've had the most ridiculous dream and that we didn't find Dr Foster dead in Freddie's shed last night after all.'

'I wish I could, Ef.'

'I don't get it. Who on earth would want to kill him? And why was he there?'

Katie shook her head and stroked Effy's hair which was still slightly damp with the sweat that she must have produced from a restless and turbulent night.

'I don't know, Effy. But you mustn't let it pray on your mind. You've made such a brilliant recovery since you came out of the hospital. You can't let it drag you back down again. You owe it to yourself to keep going. You've got to be really strong.'

Effy looked at Katie with the same dull, lifeless eyes that Dr Foster looked up at them with last night and said 'But if I'm not going to see Freddie again after all, who the hell can I be strong for?'

'Well, me for starters. You can try doing it for me, can't you? I'm your friend, aren't I?'

Effy nodded slowly but still looked blankly at Katie, as if waiting for a more persuasive argument.

'I care about you, you know that, don't you. So do lots of other people. Your Mum and Dad, Tony, Emily, Naomi, JJ. We all really love you and care about you. All of us want to see you get completely better and we're all here for you if you need us.'

Effy sat up and, with the suspicion of tears in her eyes, held her arms out making it pretty clear she needed a hug which Katie willingly provided. The two girls remained locked in a tight embrace for quite a while, Effy burying her head on Katie's shoulder whilst Katie whispered in her ear that everything was going to be okay and that she would be safe with her. But all the while she was saying those words of comfort and reassurance Katie couldn't help worrying that Effy was heading for some seriously troubled times ahead. Katie was genuinely scared that Effy could be on the verge of another breakdown unless she was cared for virtually twenty-four seven in the coming days and weeks.

Naomi was doing a passable imitation of a nodding dog as she sat at the kitchen table with her eyes closed, drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, whilst Emily was distractedly flicking through the pages of that day's newspaper. Both of them were bored beyond belief – not what each other's company, of course, that could never happen – but sick to the back teeth already after less than twenty-four hours of being confined to barracks. It was bad enough being a prisoner in their own home but to be virtual recluses in a strange, unfamiliar and unappealing environment was ten times worse. So it was with immaculate timing that JJ rang Emily at that precise moment of the nadir of their boredom and frustration.

'Hi JJ,' said Emily, thrilled to hear the sound of someone else's voice for a change. 'How's it going?' The sound of Emily's mobile ring tone gave Naomi a start and jolted her out of the light semi-consciousness into which she had drifted yet again She puffed out her cheeks, screwed up her eyes and strained to hear the conversation that Emily was having with JJ, just to give herself something to focus on and do.

'Yeah, we're fine…No, we're not back at home yet…I don't know how long we're going to be where we are but we're not that far away, Jay. It's not like we've been taken miles and miles away…..No, I can't say where we are. The police have told us we can't, for our own safety, you know. ….Yeah, you're right, it _is _really shitty.'

There followed a short period of silence on Emily's part as she listened to JJ talking after which her face broke into a wide smile, her eyes lit up and she replied excitedly,

'Oh, JJ that would be absolutely brilliant but I don't think the cops would let us come over.'

Emily whispered over to Naomi who had sat up and shown a certain degree of interest in Emily's reply.' JJ's inviting us over to his place for a small party tonight. He's going to speak to Katie and Effy also. Just the four of us and Lara – they'll get some food in and some drinks.'

Naomi smiled but jerked her head back behind her to indicate their two watchdogs in the living room whom she could hear having a chat together. She couldn't imagine them giving the go-ahead for a wild evening out of debauchery and drunkenness away from the relative safety of their mystery hideaway.

'We'll ask them JJ. I'll plead with them on my knees if I have to, okay? I'll go and speak to them now and I'll call you back.'

Emily hung up and looked at Naomi who was pulling a face as if to say 'Good luck with that one, babe. Rather you than me.'

I'm going to ask Cathy first. She's really nice and she's bound to be much more understanding than Sweeney.'

But, Ems, even if _they_ say yes, they'll have to clear it with the DI and he's bound to veto it. He's not the kind of guy who would sympathise with our situation. It's not his problem if we're bored out of our tiny minds being stuck in here.'

'Naoms, if you don't ask, you don't get. What harm can it do? I mean, provided Sweeney and Cathy come with us to JJ's and stay close to us all evening, what could be the problem? '

Naomi shrugged her shoulders without answering Emily's questions. She didn't want to build her hopes up too much. An evening away from this miserable hell-hole and in the company of their closest friends was just what they both needed to raise their spirits but she just couldn't see it happening. She didn't want to get all excited and optimistic and then suffer intense disappointment when their reasonable request for a pink ticket for the evening was denied them.

Emily was not to be put off by Naomi's apparent lack of enthusiasm and optimism and called out to Cathy who swiftly appeared on the kitchen and was relayed the contents of JJ's phone call by Emily. The redhead certainly would have got rave reviews for her acting performance as she eagerly threw herself into the role of the miserable, frustrated and depressed victim of an enforced house arrest, desperate to be let out into the outside world for a brief glimpse of the life they had left behind. She laid it on thick with a big trowel and Naomi had to bite her lip to stop herself from giggling which she was well aware could easily have ruined the effect of Emily's Oscar-winning role.

Cathy listened patiently and with good humour to Emily's heartfelt plea for them to be allowed an evening's entertainment with their friends before giving her verdict on the matter. 'Look, girls, if it was up to me alone, then I guess I wouldn't have a problem with it, provided we could get you there and back without anyone else seeing you. Leave it with me a while. I'll talk to Sweeney about it. If he's happy enough to go along with it, then I'll call the boss and see if we can get clearance. Okay?'

Emily beamed with unrestrained joy and gave Cathy a warm hug of appreciation, which did not exactly go unnoticed by Naomi who still wasn't prepared to go over board with the celebrations just yet. She suspected that Straw or Blunt would put the kybosh on their grand plans for the evening and that there would be nothing that Cathy would be able to do about it. Straw didn't strike her as the sort of guy who enjoyed seeing other people having a good time, she thought.

'Right, are you are all set?' asked Cathy as she put her coat on and DC Sweeney unlocked the front door and passed swiftly outside to start the car. 'Now, remember what we said. You go straight into the back of the car and lie down on the floor. You two have got to stay there until we say it's safe for you to come up. We're under strict instructions from the guvnor not to take any chances, right? The first sign of _anything _this evening that we don't like the look of and we're getting you out of there and bringing you straight home. Okay?'

'Yes, Miss,' said Emily and Naomi in unison, grinning from ear to ear. It felt just like they were going on their first school outing in the grown-up big world, an exciting enough occasion in itself never mind the extra special bonus of the cloak and dagger stuff, hiding under the back seat of the car.

'Miss,' said Naomi, holding her hand up and pretending to sound like a nine year old. 'What if with all the excitement I need a wee while I'm in the car?'

'Tough shit,' said their unconventional and highly irregular teacher for the evening. 'You should have gone before you left home. You'll just have to cross your legs and hold on.'

'Miss! Naomi's not very good at crossing her legs,' said Emily, mimicking Naomi's impressively delivered little girl voice and burst out into a fit of the giggles as Naomi playfully pushed her in retaliation for that disgraceful slur on her character and her moral fibre.

'Look, stop fucking about, you two and let's get going before I change my mind,' but Cathy couldn't help laughing at the pair of them. They made for a hilarious double act when they were in the mood for it and she could see that they fed off each other's lead and lines brilliantly. She felt another fleeting pang of envy that these two bright young girls were so in tune with each other, so made for each other that you couldn't imagine them ever not being deliriously happy together.

Still laughing, Cathy opened the front door, peered outside and, after checking with Sweeney that the coast was clear, ushered the two girls rapidly and with no nonsense into the back of the car. They immediately hit the deck, in the grand manner, as soon as they were inside and Cathy joined Sweeney in the front passenger seat and they were on their way.

Emily and Naomi had been lying squashed up next to each other on the floor for a good couple of minutes taking the situation very seriously and almost holding their breath in case anyone outside the car might possibly hear them and cotton on that something was afoot. But eventually Naomi refused to play ball with the utter absurdity of what they were doing and started nuzzling Emily's ear lobe and licking her face up and down, causing Emily to squeal and cackle with laughter. After starting with her ear Naomi rapidly moved on to Emily's mouth and pressed her lips against the redhead's and began kissing her softly and delicately, darting her tongue in and out of Emily's mouth and making her girlfriend give a few little moans of appreciation and pleasure.

'What the hell's going on back there?' cried out DC Sweeney as he glanced hurriedly in the mirror as the sounds of the girls' giggling and groaning grew ever louder in the back, By now, of course, Naomi and Emily had exchanged a few whispers and had agreed to put on a bit of a show for DC Sweeney so they ramped up the performance level a few decibels. The moans intensified and the fumblings became more audible as the girls writhed about on the floor on top of each other, struggling not to totally lose it and collapse in a fit of giggles.

In the front passenger seat Cathy had to hide her amusement by turning her head to the side away from an increasingly disconcerted and plainly embarrassed Sweeney who was now glancing in the mirror more frequently in a vain attempt to see what the hell was going on in the back of his car as the exaggerated cries of 'Ooh!' and 'Aah!' reached epic proportions.

'Oh! Sweeney! Keep your eyes on the road, not on the mirror!' Cathy said accusingly, strangling a laugh.

'I'm just checking to make sure we're not being followed, that's all,' protested Sweeney in outraged defence of his actions though turning bright red at Cathy's remark didn't exactly strengthen his claim.

'Sure you were,' said Cathy in mock sympathy,'

The car fell unexpectedly quiet for a few moments until the uneasy silence was broken by Naomi whispering from the floor in deliberately loud and audible fashion, 'I don't think I've ever had sex in the back of a car before, Ems!'

'No, me neither. Do you think that nice constable Sweeney would mind if we tried it out now in his car?'

On hearing that, Sweeney slammed on the brakes and pulled the car in to the side of the road without even bothering to indicate as the three girls collapsed into fits of hysterical laughter. 'You two are NOT going to have sex in the back of MY car, do you hear?' he shouted angrily as he turned round and glared at Naomi and Emily who were lying on top of each other, almost wetting themselves with hysteria and the sight of his furious, red face just set them off on yet another fit of uncontrollably giggling. Cathy was similarly in hysterics in the front and the three girls were forced to hold on to their sides as they could feel a stitch coming on, so violently were they laughing at Sweeney reaction.

'Jesus, Sweeney. You really must go and treat yourself to a sense of humour one of these days, you know,' said Cathy, wiping away the tears of laughter from her face and willing herself to regain her composure and get her mind back on the job again.

'I think you two can get up now,' said Cathy with a sideways glance at her red-faced colleague. 'I don't think DC Sweeney's imagination can stand it any more if you carry on lying on the floor. I think he'll be happier if he can see what you're up to.'

**AUTHOR'S FOOTNOTE**

After so much drama, dead bodies and angst in recent chapters I thought it was about time to lighten the mood a little so I hope you enjoy a slightly more comedy-orientated chapter here. As usual I shall be terribly grateful for all reviews received!


	16. Chapter 16

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Emily begins to strike up a friendship with Cathy over breakfast. Katie vows to take care of a troubled Effy who is shell-shocked from the discovery of Foster's body. JJ invites Naomi and Emily to a small party with their friends at his house which the police give the go-ahead to. Naomi and Emily are smuggled into the back of the car and driven to JJ's by Sweeney and Cathy.

.-

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: AN UNINVITED GUEST**

The spur of the moment, no special reason party at JJ's was in full swing and Naomi was well on the way to getting royally pissed out of her brain. She needed that badly. She couldn't remember the last time she had knocked back a few drinks and that probably accounted for the swiftness of her state of inebriation, at least in part. But it was also down to being able to take her mind off the recent stresses and strains by spending some much needed time with her friends in a familiar, unthreatening and convivial environment. She found that she was able to relax and let her hair down for the first time since she and Emily had taken off on that Saturday afternoon jaunt into the country. That was the last time she could remember feeling this happy and free.

Emily had begun by matching Naomi drink for drink but after a while she could see that her girlfriend was hell bent on a mission to get totally wrecked by the end of the night. So wisely, and typically unselfishly, she decided that she would slow down a bit so that they weren't both utterly out of it in equal measures as the evening progressed. She was worried that Naomi might get a little indiscreet in front of the rest of the gang and say something that she shouldn't. Emily didn't want to run the risk of Cathy or Sweeney dragging them away from the party before it was over because a drunken Naomi had blabbed about where the safe house was or given away confidential information about the murder investigation. She was desperate to prove to the two detectives that both of them could be trusted to keep their mouths shut and that this evening's pink ticket, 'Get Out Of Jail Free Card' didn't have to be a one-off and could be used again.

Although she was now standing in the kitchen talking with JJ and Lara as they were taking the garlic bread out of the oven and cutting it up into individual-sized portions, she had half an eye on Naomi who was loudly and energetically holding court with Katie, Effy and Cathy in the adjoining breakfast-room.

'So how are things with you two, really?' asked JJ, trying not to burn his fingers on the garlic bread and failing. 'Ouch! That's bloody hot.'

'They've just come out of the oven, JJ,' said a not wholly sympathetic Lara who was shaking her head in quiet amusement as JJ swiftly ran his burnt fingers under the cold water tap for a few seconds. 'They're meant to be hot. You should have left them to cool down for a while.'

'I guess so,' said a sheepish JJ as Emily sniggered at his customary gaucheness and Lara eventually took pity on him and softly kissed his fingers better. 'Anyway, how are you both coping?' he turned to Emily once more and repeated his question.

'Okay, I suppose. At least with the two coppers living with us we feel much safer than we were before. It's just so boring being cooped up all day and I really miss not being at home with all our own stuff, you know?'

'Where have they put you up?' asked Lara innocently as she deftly cut up the now sufficiently cooled down garlic bread and placed the pieces into a bowl.

'I can't tell you that, guys - strict instructions from the cops. No-one is to know except them.'

'Fair enough. At least they agreed to let you come over here tonight, even if you had to bring them with you. Still, we've got plenty of food and drink so that should keep them happy.'

Emily smiled and nodded at Lara. 'Well, they won't be knocking back any of the booze as they're on duty but Sweeney will demolish all the food on his own if he's given half a chance. He eats more than anyone I've ever met.'

'Oh yes, where is the delightful DC Sweeney? I haven't seen him since you arrived.' JJ raised a quizzical eyebrow. He had heard quite a lot about Sweeney's less attractive habits already from Emily. His fertile imagination led him to speculate if he might have taken himself upstairs, on the pretext of checking all the rooms for intruders, to have a pervy rummage around the cupboards and drawers to see if he could find any women's underwear to dribble over. Shit! A terrifying thought suddenly occurred to him. What if DC Sweeney found his hidden stash of porno mags! Buggeration! Not that JJ had looked at any of them for a long time; not since he and Lara had become an item, that is and regular mind-blowing sex with her had rendered the need for such magazines utterly redundant.

'I think he's on permanent look-out,' surmised Emily, taking a couple of pieces of garlic bread from the bowl which Lara was on the point of taking out to the others. 'The last time I saw him he was peeping out from behind the curtains in one of the bedrooms that looks out on to the back garden.'

JJ's heart sank a few feet into his trainers on hearing this news. That was _his _bedroom that Sweeney was lurking in and he desperately tried to remember how well he had hidden away his porn stash. It would be so embarrassing to be arrested at your own party in front of all your mates – well, most of them, anyway – for possession of pornographic material. Even more so since it had probably been Cook who had made the magazines as dog-eared as they were far more than him!

'I think I'll just go and up and see how he's getting on,' he said nervously. 'I'll take him some garlic bread, shall I?' He grabbed a couple of pieces from the bowl which Lara was holding and rushed off leaving a somewhat nonplussed Emily and Lara to exchange bewildered looks. They were well used to JJ's eccentric and irrational behaviour, of course, but they couldn't for the life of them see where this sudden interest in Sweeney's welfare had come from.

As it turned out JJ had hardly got half way up the stairs when he met Sweeney coming down. The DC wasn't exactly running but he was certainly descending the stairs with a purposeful stride and he had a serious look on his face. 'What's the matter, Detective-Constable?' asked a by now terrified JJ who had an absurd vision of Sweeney reaching into his pockets for his handcuffs with which to secure JJ before taking him away into custody for being an even bigger pervert than he was himself.

'I thought I saw a dark figure just now lurking around in one of the neighbouring gardens,' said Sweeney. 'I'm going outside to take a look. Tell all the others to stay together in one room and warn DC Thomas to be on the alert.'

JJ heaved a sigh of relief and broke out into a wide smile. 'Oh, thank God for that.'

'I'm sorry?' replied a suspicious Sweeney, staring hard at JJ who instantly turned bright red upon realising that his reaction was perhaps not the most appropriate response to the possible sighting of a serial killer in the area.

'Umm, ….I mean,….umm,…..thank God we've….umm….. got you here to protect us, DC Sweeney.' JJ stuttered and stammered his way out of the hole he had dug himself into just about enough not to keep DC Sweeney eyeing him up any longer. The constable shook his head in silent amazement at this weird, oddball friend of Emily and Naomi before disappearing out of the front door, one hand already lightly resting on the trigger of the gun in his pocket.

The shadowy figure spotted by DC Sweeney from the upstairs window in JJ's bedroom ducked down and withdrew deeper into the thick clumps of leaves in the tree which largely obscured him from view. He watched carefully as DC Sweeney came round the side of the house and moved into the garden and noted with more than a passing interest that this plain clothes copper - for no-one with half a brain could possibly mistake him for anybody else - was carrying a hand gun. He observed calmly as Sweeney did a thorough tour of the garden, looking around all the time and peering over the fences on either side of the neighbouring gardens for any signs of human life.

After five minutes of painstaking and cautious searching, the armed police officer must have satisfied himself that there were no obvious intruders in the vicinity and therefore no cause for alarm. He took the opportunity to hang around by the back door to smoke a cigarette which the figure hiding in the tree wanted to join him in but thought better of it. The mysterious tree-dweller waited until Sweeney had finished his fag break and disappeared back round the side of the house before lighting a cigarette of his own and leaning back against the side of the tree, confident with his balance. He still wasn't a hundred per cent sure that his next move was the right thing to do. Ideally he would have waited for a more favourable opportunity but he reckoned this was probably going to be his best chance for some considerable time.

He dug his free hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a mobile, switching it on and scrolling down the list of contacts, searching for one name. He found the person he wanted and then paused, his thumb hovering hesitantly over the name for some time as he took another long drag on his cigarette and sighed heavily. He couldn't be sure what reaction he would get when he made contact. It was possible that his message would be ignored completely. There was even a chance that any visible reaction to his message would give the game away as to his presence in the area and he would have to scarper pretty damn quickly. But he knew he had to take that risk. The way he saw it, doing nothing was simply not an option. He couldn't just walk away from the situation and never be seen or heard again. That was the coward's way out and he was certainly no coward. He had to have closure at some time or other.

JJ pointed once more to the vague area of his groin with a wicked grin on his face and waited with increasing impatience for someone to come up with the right answer.

'Nob!' shouted Katie with a giggle.

'Oh yeah, good guess' said Emily scornfully. 'Do tell me what that film was about, Katie. I must have missed it.'

'Well, I don't know, do I? He was pointing at his nob, wasn't he?'

'You said it's one word, Jay? So it's not Dick Turpin, then.' Naomi was getting all competitive again despite, or quite possibly because of, being pissed. JJ nodded furiously and decided he had to give a clue otherwise this particular round of Filthy Charades would go on all night.

'Lara should know the answer to this better than anyone else,' he said with a shy grin as he winked at his girlfriend and motioned down with his head towards his groin again.

Lara wrinkled her nose as all eyes turned towards her and thought for a few seconds before the penny dropped and she burst out laughing. 'Bloody hell, JJ. Don't tell me you mean Big?'

JJ's face broke out into another huge smile and all the others groaned at the answer and mercilessly started taking the piss out of JJ who protested his innocence, asking them how the fuck else was he supposed to have acted out a one line film such as that one. Lara came to his defence 'Come on, guys, be fair. JJ has got a point. I mean, there isn't a film called Average, is there?'

As the girls all burst out laughing and teased an only slightly embarrassed yet still smiling JJ, Naomi's mobile went off. She cut short her laughter and fumbled around in her pockets to locate the phone which would have been a much easier task had she been sober rather than being three sheets to the wind as she was by then. She almost fell over in the process of prising the phone and Emily had to steady her with a firm hand which only made the tall blonde giggle even more manically.

'Who the fuck's this at this time of the evening,' she grumbled whilst slightly slurring her words and saw that someone had sent her a text message. She was sufficiently pissed to have forgotten all about the last text message she had received otherwise she might not have been so keen to read it but in the state she was in she didn't give it a moment's thought.. She read the message in silence during which time her face took on a very strange expression. Emily thought she looked very confused and puzzled and asked her with considerable trepidation who it was from but Naomi said nothing. She was clearly re-reading the text to make quite sure she had understood the message and then put the phone back in her pocket with far less fuss than she had shown taking it out and carried on drinking from her glass.

'Naoms. Are you okay? Who was the message from?' Emily's concerned expression forced an answer out of Naomi that was intended to put her mind at rest but did anything but that. 'Oh, just Mum. She said she would call me later with some surprise news, that's all. Are you ready for another drink, Ems?'

'Don't you think you've had enough, Naoms?' Emily looked at her girlfriend rather dubiously. She wasn't at all convinced about Naomi's explanation that it was her Mum who had just texted her and she was concerned that if she got any more pissed she would start behaving even more oddly and suspiciously. They had really enjoyed the evening so far and she didn't want a paralytic Naomi to go and ruin it all for them.

'No. Not just yet. I think I need another one rather badly, actually. Are you going to join me, sweetheart?' Emily shook her head silently and watched Naomi go and help herself to yet another large vodka before she came back to join her, having already taken a large gulp of it.. 'Actually, I do think I urgently need a pee, though. I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Look after the rest of my drink, will you.'

As soon as Naomi was in the toilet she locked the door and went straight over to the window and forced it open as quietly as she could. She peered out into the dark evening gloom and in her fairly pissed condition she could just make out a figure shinning expertly up the drainpipe towards her. She stepped back and sat on the toilet, waiting with nervous anticipation for the figure to appear at the open window which he did about twenty seconds later. He climbed in with little or no fuss through the window, pulled it down and sat on the window sill looking across at the astonished and confused young girl.

'Naomikins. How the devil are you?' he whispered but without cracking one of his trademark, cheeky smiles. Naomi still couldn't see his face properly, hidden as it was for the most part by a hood pulled right around his head but the voice was unmistakeable.

'What the fuck are you doing here, Cook?' she whispered back. 'The house is crawling with coppers, you know.' She had so many questions to ask him, so many things to say to him, like where the fuck had he been these past few weeks, why had he just buggered off after the party in Freddie's shed and not come back. Where was Freddie? What was with the cryptic text message just now? She hardly knew where to start.

'Well, a couple at any rate,' she said as an afterthought. 'Why did you want to see _me_ and not Effy?'

'It's Effy I needed to talk to you about. How is she? Is she alright?'

'I'm not sure. I don't think even she knows, really. But I don't think she's that great. I think she's still depressed and confused about Freddie leaving her like he did. Why did he take off like that, Cook? She really needed him to be with her. How could he simply abandon her like that?'

Cook swallowed hard and stared down at the floor. 'He didn't abandon her, Naomi.'

'Well, where the fuck is he, then? Why hasn't he come back? Jesus, Cook. Can't you take that fucking hood down? It's like talking to the Man in the Iron Mask.'

Cook looked across at Naomi and slowly pulled back his hood to reveal a startling picture which made her gasp out loud and almost made her eyes pop out of her head. Cook looked a very different person to the guy she last saw in Freddie's shed. For a start he had almost completely shaved all his hair off. He was starting to grow a beard - either that or he hadn't had time to shave for several weeks. He looked drawn and haggard around the eyes and his normally high cheek bones had sunk into the side of his face as if they had caved in on him during the night without him knowing. What capped off this alarming appearance, the coup de grace so to speak, which gave him a passable resemblance to Freddy Kruger, admittedly on a good night, was a pair of huge scars across his face and the remains of some very dark, ugly bruises which still hadn't quite healed. He looked for all the world like a man who had recently gone five rounds with a rampaging Mike Tyson and had only just lived to tell the tale.

'Jesus Christ!' Naomi couldn't stop herself from crying out in shocked amazement at the sight of him and apologised to Cook for having involuntarily raised her voice above the whispers that they had been taking in up until then. 'What the fuck happened to you? Did you run into a bus or something?'

'Something a lot more dangerous than a bus. But at least I got out alive, Naomi. Just. By the skin of my teeth. Freddie…' Cook seemed to be struggling to get the words out and was swallowing hard to keep his emotions under control.

'What about Freddie?' said Naomi, leaning forward to try to see Cook's face which was still turned towards the floor. 'Where is he, Cook? Do you know?'

Their awkward, half–whispered conversation was suddenly broken up by the sound of the door handle being tried, then someone banging loudly on the bathroom door and raised voice shouting anxiously on the other side.

'Naomi! What are you doing in there? Who are you talking to?' Emily sounded terrified but her voice was soon replaced by the even more urgent voice of Cathy.

'Naomi! Who's in there with you? Are you alright? What's going on?'

At a sign from Cook, Naomi called out to the people on the other side of the door whilst Cook silently opened up the window and started to make his getaway back where he came. He made a sign to suggest he would contact her again later.

'No-one. I'm fine. I'm just feeling a bit sick, that's all.'

'She was definitely talking to someone in there. I could hear her from out here,' said an almost tearful Emily to Cathy and Sweeney who were standing next to her looking equally worried and concerned for Naomi's safety.

'Break the fucking door down, Sweeney. Now!' Cathy wasn't going to take any chances. The cost of a broken bathroom door was nothing compared to the cost of a human life as far as she was concerned. It took him two or three well directed shoves with his not insubstantial frame to break the door down and within seconds he was inside the bathroom. He saw an astonished Naomi standing by the toilet and then, after quickly confirming that she wasn't harmed at all, he rushed over to the open window and leaned out. Cathy and Emily had followed him into the room and Emily went over to a frightened Naomi and threw her arms around her, crying.

'I can see someone legging it out through the garden,' he said, excitedly and he took his pistol out of his pocket and fired it at the disappearing figure hotfooting it over the garden fence. 'Shit! Missed him,' he swore and strained his eyes to try to make out where the dark figure was heading.

'Get after him, Sweeney. But we want him alive, not dead, you tosser! If he hasn't got a weapon on him, then you just take him in using reasonable force, do you hear me?'

Sweeney took off out of the bathroom and flew down the stairs leaving the three girls alone in the bathroom where Emily was still holding on to Naomi for dear life.

'What's been going on, Naomi?' Cathy stared accusingly at a pale and worried Naomi who said nothing. 'Who was that guy in here? Did he try to hurt you in any way?'

'No! Of course he didn't! He wouldn't do anything like that!'

'Then who was it? Still Naomi remained silent and just looked down at the floor, clearly not wanting to look Cathy in the eyes. 'Naoms, you've got to tell the police who it was. This isn't a game, you know. This is serious!' Emily knew Naomi must have a good reason to completely clam up like this and refuse to answer Cathy's questions but the last thing she wanted was to see her girlfriend arrested for obstructing the police.

'Phone!' said Cathy, holding out her hand towards Naomi.

'What?' replied a now calmer yet still unsmiling and surly Naomi.

'Give me your phone. Emily says you got a text message before you came up here. Let me see your phone, Naomi!'

Naomi stared at Cathy in silence and then looked at Emily whose eyes were pleading with her to co-operate with Cathy who was only doing her job. Eventually she put her hand in her pocket and dug out her mobile which she handed over to Cathy with great reluctance. Cathy switched it on and a few moments later had found and read the text message sent by Cook.

'So that was James Cook, was it?'

'Naomi shrugged her shoulders and remained tight-lipped. 'Might have been. So what? He's not your serial killer, for fuck's sake.'

'We don't know that, Naomi. Besides, he's still wanted by the police for having escaped custody where he was serving a sentence for GBH. He's a dangerous man, Naomi whom you have helped escape from us again.'

'He's our friend, Cathy. What was she supposed to do if he contacted her?' Emily was desperately trying to stick up for Naomi and save her from possible police charges which she was becoming increasingly afraid would be brought against her. Cathy's next words ensured that all her worst fears were realised and sent an icy chill through her pounding heart.

'I'm really sorry, Naomi but your actions leave me with no option. I've got to take you down to the police station for questioning about what has happened here tonight.'

.


	17. Chapter 17

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi gets well tanked up at JJ's party with Emily, Effy, Katie and Lara watching on anxiously. JJ is terrified Sweeney might find his old stash of porn magazines hidden in his bedroom. Naomi gets a text message from an old friend and secretly meets up with him in the bathroom. Cook gets close to telling her about Freddie when the police break the door down. Sweeney sets off in pursuit of Cook who has escaped out of the window. Naomi is taken in for questioning.

.-

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ABOVE SUSPICION**

This was the third time in a week that Naomi had sat in an interview room down at her local police station. However she could hardly claim that she was getting used to the situation by now and was taking it all in her stride. Ordinarily speaking the more often you do something the less daunting it seems and the more comfortable you become with the process. Yet on this occasion Naomi was more frightened and anxious than she had been on either of the two previous visits and these feelings were not solely down to the fact that this time she was sitting there on her own without Emily by her side to give her constant comfort and unstinting support.

On the two previous occasions she had been interviewed by the police as the victim of a crime and had consequently been treated sympathetically and with a considerable degree of respect. That night she had been shown into the room without any of the common courtesies and told simply to wait until an officer was ready to question her. No offer of a cup of tea or coffee had been made and Emily had been told to wait out at the front of the police station with no indication being given as to when, or indeed even if, Naomi would be released, with or without charge.

A uniformed police constable stood inside the door with his hands behind his back but he hadn't said a word to her. She knew he was there primarily to ensure she didn't attempt to escape and that made her feel even more like a common criminal. She was still feeling the effects of all the alcohol she had consumed that evening and could have murdered a strong cup of coffee to revive her senses and sharpen her mind which she was expecting would be severely put to the test when the questioning began. She buried her head in her hands and willed herself not to burst into tears, not to give the police the satisfaction of seeing that she was vulnerable and frightened. She told herself to be calm and strong. She knew that lying through one's teeth to the cops would not be a good tactic but equally she didn't have to tell them everything. She could perhaps get away with being economical with the truth.

All these thoughts were flying around in her head as she sat in an eerie, mournful silence which was finally broken by the entrance into the room of DS Blunt, although much to Naomi's relief minus DI Straw. She felt far less intimidated by Blunt and more comfortable with her compared with Straw who had never made her feel at ease during any of their previous meetings. She had got the firm impression that he couldn't relate to lesbians and didn't know how to talk to them like ordinary people.

DS Blunt sat down at the table opposite Naomi and stared at her for a while in silence. Naomi attempted to return Blunt's expressionless gaze with an equally defiant stare of her own but she soon found it difficult to keep it going and her eyes dropped down to the table where her hands were locked together, fingers nervously twitching.

'Well, you've been a bit of a silly girl tonight, haven't you, Naomi?' said DS Blunt eventually, judging that Naomi had probably received enough of the initial cold shoulder treatment to have sufficiently dented the air of defiance and arrogance which she had presented on arrival at the station.

'_Have_ I?' said Naomi, looking up at DS Blunt but not betraying any emotion.

'I'd say so, yes. Let's see now, we've got obstructing the police with their enquiries….' but Naomi interrupted Blunt before she could move on to the next indiscretion.

'Cook's got nothing to do with these girls being killed! How can what happened tonight have obstructed you in your enquiries?'

'Firstly, you don't know he's got nothing to do with the murders any more than we do. Secondly, he's an escaped prisoner on the run whom the police have been looking to catch for some considerable time now. That investigation is still ongoing and your actions tonight have obstructed our attempts to find him and arrest him again.'

Naomi fell silent, unable to argue against the logic of DS Blunt's assertion. The detective sergeant paused for a while to see if Naomi was planning to continue her protestations of innocence and then resumed her catalogue of Naomi's criminal misdemeanours.

'Moving on, we have aiding and abetting an escaped prisoner, harbouring an escaped prisoner, assisting an offender, the list goes on and on, Naomi. We might even have a case to bring against you for perverting the course of justice.'

Naomi's mouth shot wide open at the bewildering and terrifying list of possible criminal offences which DS Blunt was apparently contemplating charging her with, some of which she had never even heard of. Her heartbeat had increased alarmingly and she began to have nightmarish visions of being thrown into a tiny, cold, bare police cell and left there until she had learned the error of her ways.

'Are you really going to charge me with all of those offences?' Her voice, which from the moment of her arrival at the police station had been full of defiance and outraged resentment, had been reduced to little more than a whisper and she could hardly recognise it. Her plan to keep her composure and to put on a bold and confident face was floundering around her knees.

'We might. At any rate, a prison cell might be the safest place for you to stay at the moment. There's far less chance of the killer getting to you there compared with any safe house of ours – or any of your friend's houses, for that matter.'

'Trust me, Cook isn't your killer,' insisted Naomi, recovering a little of her former assertiveness.

'How can you be so sure? He's got form for assault and battery, you know. That's why he was banged up in the first place.'

'Okay. I know he's got a temper on him and he can often lose it. He's been in quite a few fights in his time, we all know that. He's pretty handy with his fists and he's never backed down from a fight. But he would _never _lay a finger on any girl, he just wouldn't. He might want to _screw _every girl he meets but he would never harm any of them.'

DS Blunt raised an interested eyebrow at this unexpected in-depth character analysis of Cook from Naomi. 'And what about if the girl didn't want to have sex with him? How would he react to that?'

Naomi stared at Blunt in disbelief. She could see what the detective sergeant was getting at and she was having none of it. 'He wouldn't. He would just…..accept it and walk away.'

'Really? What, just like that? No anger, no frustration, no attempts to get her to change her mind, to _persuade_ her to go along with it? He would simply, what, shake her hand, apologise or say "never mind, that's your loss" and walk away?'

'Yes!'

Ds Blunt fell silent again and looked at Naomi very closely. She could tell that the young girl firmly believed in what she was saying; she sensed that she was very loyal to her friends, however dubious some of these characters might be but Blunt had a feeling there was something else behind her vehement protestations, something other than blind loyalty and deeply held convictions.

'You wouldn't be speaking from personal experience, would you, Naomi?'

Naomi stared at DS Blunt and felt her mouth go dry as she answered. 'No, of course not.'

'I would strongly advise against lying to me, Naomi. I've still got room here to add that to the list of offences we could charge you with.' Blunt thought she detected a slight twitch around the mouth and signs of increased breathing and heightened twiddling of her fingers which were resting on the table.

'Okay. Yes, he did try it on with me….once, a long time ago. But when I knocked him back he was absolutely fine about it. He respected me for saying no to him. That's the honest truth.'

'But maybe he didn't respect these other girls quite so much when _they_ turned hum down, Naomi. Maybe he lost his temper with them and lashed out at them…with a knife.'

Naomi shook her head from side to side and swallowed hard to prevent a few tears from forming in her eyes. 'You're wrong,' she said in a distinctly shaky voice. 'You're completely wrong about him. Cook wouldn't do a thing like that. You'd be barking up the wrong tree if you think he's a suspect.' Then she fell silent once more, wondering if she had made a huge mistake telling DS Blunt about that incident with Cook in the classroom the year before. What unintentional damage might she have caused with that innocent revelation which she had put forward in his defence?

A miserable looking Emily glanced at her watch and noted that it was nearly an hour since she had followed Naomi down to the police station with Katie and Effy in tow close behind. She had been made to wait by the front desk while Naomi had been escorted by a police constable over towards a vacant interview room. She couldn't bear to think of Naomi having to face a barrage of questions from DI Straw all on her own without anyone by her side to back her up. Katie and Effy had been sitting with Emily the whole time and had been incredibly supportive and comforting but nonetheless she still felt scared out of her wits for Naomi and feared what the police might decide to do with her.

'There's no way they can arrest her just for agreeing to see Cook,' Katie said to her sister, doing her utmost to put a positive spin on things. Emily had quickly filled the two girls in on what had happened back at JJ's as they had been gobsmacked to see Naomi being taken away for questioning by Cathy and had pressed Emily to explain what had been going on. 'For fuck's sake, it's not _our_ job to turn Cook in. It's the police's job to find him and arrest him. Why should we be expected to do their bloody work for them?'

'Why did he want to speak to Naomi?' asked a perplexed Effy who had been quiet and seemingly deep in thought for much of the time at the station. 'Do you know what it was about, Emily?'

Emily shook her head. 'Naomi didn't have a chance to tell me why he had called and asked to see her. Honestly,' she added, seeing Effy's disappointed and bewildered expression. 'I really don't know what was going on any more than you two do. I'm not sure they had much of a chance to talk before we all started banging on the door.'

Effy got up and started pacing up and down, thoroughly on edge and desperately keen for Naomi to be released so that she could quiz her about Cook. 'I just don't understand why he showed up tonight but not the other night,' she cried out in frustration.

'What do you mean, not the other night?' Emily's curiosity overcame her deepening misery at Naomi's prolonged absence. An alert Katie tried to forestall Effy's reply with a meaningful stare at the tall brunette. She was on the point of answering Emily's question for her with a suitably vague and misleading explanation but Effy was too quick for her.

'He sent me a text message yesterday morning asking to meet me in Freddie's shed later that night. He said he had news about Freddie but when we got there he never showed up.'

'Who's "we"?' A puzzled Emily looked at the two girls who exchanged silent glances before Katie decided they had to come clean – partially, at least – about the events of the previous evening.

'**I **went with Effy to the shed. I didn't like the idea of her going over there on her own especially as we didn't know for sure it was Cook who sent her the text.'

'Who else did you think it could have been?' Emily couldn't get her head round this incident but was starting to lose interest rapidly. It seemed to have no bearing on this evening's events if Cook never actually put in an appearance after all.

'I don't know, do I?' said Katie defensively. 'I mean, there is a mad serial killer on the loose, remember? You should know that better than anyone. It's not safe for a girl to go out by herself any more!'

'Yes, you're right. I'm sorry,' apologised Emily wearily and she sat back on her seat and let out a huge sigh of impatience and not a little anxiety. 'How much longer are they going to question Naoms? Surely she must have told them all she knows by now?'

Katie edged up closer and put a consoling arm around her sister's shoulders. She looked across at a still restless Effy and made a gesture with her head to tell her to stop pacing around and come over and help her cheer up Emily. Thankfully Effy took the hint and the two girls sat either side of an increasingly disconsolate and frightened Emily who was struggling to contain her emotions and deal with the uncertainty of not knowing whether she was going to be spending the night back at the safe house without Naomi.

Cook turned and looked behind one more time to double check but was he was pretty damn certain that he had thrown the pursuing copper off his trail. He had been an annoyingly persistent bastard and no mistake but Cook was younger, fitter and faster and eventually that advantage had to tell. He breathed a sigh of relief and hid back in the shadows of some large trees to light a cigarette and take stock of his situation.

He still really wanted to continue his conversation with Naomi but that now looked out of the question. He expected the cops would be giving her a hard time about not telling them about hearing from him and agreeing to see him and he was genuinely sorry for her if that was the case. He was also puzzled as to why Naomi and Emily had been given this police protection unless it was something to do with all these girls being killed which he had read about in the local newspaper. He couldn't work out how they could possibly be involved and not knowing pissed him off. But because he had been interrupted by the police before he could find out more about Effy's state of mind from Naomi he now accepted he was in a bit of a quandary.

Should he simply make contact with Effy and tell her about Freddie's horrific fate and take the risk that she wouldn't completely fall to bits? Or should he wait a while and tell one of the others – Katie, perhaps – and leave her to break the tragic news and stay around to pick up the pieces of an emotionally shattered Effy. And then there was also the issue of Freddie's father and sister. They had just as much right to know what had happened as Effy – more so, if truth be told. They were Freddie's family even though he had frequently been at loggerheads with them in all the years he had known Freddie. How could he possibly leave them in the dark?

He still had vivid memories of the moment when Karen charged him with finding her brother in a desperate and emotional appeal to his close friendship with Freddie. He could also imagine that Leo, Freddie's father, would have been torn apart by his son's unexplained disappearance and wouldn't rest until he had found out what had become of him. How could he take off from the city for good without giving them the peace of mind that can only come with knowledge and certainty about what has happened to the people you love? Not knowing how to begin to break the news to them about Freddie's brutal death was no excuse for leaving them to cling on to the false hope that he might turn up one day out of the blue and everything would be fine again.

But there was another dimension to this whole tragic, complicated affair which preoccupied his thoughts as he stood in the shadows puffing away furiously, trying to get his head straight. There was the little matter of his own freedom, his own self-preservation to consider. He certainly had no wish to return to prison, for however long a sentence that might involve. It wasn't that he was afraid that serving time would break him. No, he knew he could cope with that, he was made of pretty strong stuff though he said so himself. He had the right mental toughness to get through a prison stretch without emerging at the other end as a completely changed and broken man. It wasn't that outcome he was afraid of.

It was the possibility, indeed he felt it to be more a strong probability, that a long spell banged up with a load of violent, dangerous, evil characters was bound to rub off on him. He feared he might become like one of them. He suspected he could all too easily be drawn into mixing with seriously bad company, some of the more unsavoury elements inside, and pick up all their tricks of the trade. A bit of a hot-headed tearaway, but no more than that, might easily be transformed through regular association with some real nasty pieces of work or some smart career criminals into a fully fledged and committed felon who would reject the idea of leading a largely law-abiding life in favour of a wholly criminal path leading ultimately to inevitable self-destruction. He wanted to remain for ever Cook the lad, Cook the womaniser, Cook the lovable rogue. He didn't want to become Cook the vicious bastard, Cook the armed robber, Cook the beater of young women.

He took one final drag of his cigarette and threw the butt on to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe. He needed more time and space to think things through. Hanging around in the open like this was anything but conducive to clear, rational thought. He needed a good hiding place, a safe bolt-hole for the night where he would not need to be constantly looking over his shoulder for marauding police officers. He could think of only two options and he weighed them up in his mind before settling on the one that he considered would be the unlikeliest that the police would search. Decision made, he stepped forward out of the trees and started making his way over there, his eyes constantly darting around for signs of anything remotely resembling a police officer, a squad car or a similar threat to his continued freedom.

'So what did James Cook want with you?' DS Blunt persisted with her questioning of a clearly exhausted and fraught Naomi. She had every intention of releasing the young girl without charge at the end of their interview but saw no reason not to put her through the wringer nonetheless as punishment for her thoughtless actions that evening. Besides, any further information she could extract from Naomi about James Cook could only prove useful in their investigations. However vehemently Naomi protested Cook's innocence, Blunt remained far from convinced at this stage of their enquiries and was eager to learn more about the young man's unexpected appearance that evening. An escaped man on the run must have had a bloody good reason to come out of hiding and make contact with an old friend, thereby running the risk of being seen and recaptured. She needed to find out what that reason could be.

'I don't know. We had hardly got talking when DC Sweeney bust the door down.'

'He must have given you _some_ idea of why he needed to see you so badly. He's obviously come out of hiding specifically to get in touch with you, Naomi. He must have had a good reason.'

'I don't think I was the person he came out of hiding to see.'

'So who did he want to see, then?'

Naomi considered in silence what she should say before deciding to tell them all she knew which didn't exactly add up to very much anyway. 'He asked me how Effy was and I told him she wasn't that great.'

DS Blunt looked down briefly at her notes and then said 'That would be Elisabeth Stonem, wouldn't it? Effy, as she's called. One of your closet friends, isn't she? Part of the gang you've hung out with since you've been at college?'

Naomi nodded in response and wondered idly just how much information the police had managed to collate on all of them. 'So was Effy Cook's girlfriend? I got the impression he never stayed around long enough with any one girl to have a proper relationship.'

'They were….sort of together for a few weeks when we started college. Then Effy…..well, I suppose she kind of dumped Cook for Freddie.'

'Did she? This would be Freddie…. McClair, is it?' she prompted, referring once more to her notes. 'Would this be the teenager who was reported missing six weeks ago by his father and sister?'

Naomi nodded again and closed her eyes, bitterly regretting that everything she said to DS Blunt sounded so bad for Cook and seemed to represent yet another nail in his coffin.

'Weren't James Cook and Freddie McClair best mates?' Blunt looked across at Naomi for confirmation of the second hand information they had received during their enquiries which Naomi reluctantly confirmed with a nod.

'So, James Cook loses out on Effy to his best mate Freddie McClair who then mysteriously goes missing and hasn't been heard of or seen ever since. Bit of a coincidence, don't you think?'

'For fuck's sake, it wasn't like that at all!' cried a distressed Naomi who was furious at the way DS Blunt was twisting the story to fit in with her convenient theory about Cook's perceived problem with rejection. 'He and Effy split up ages ago – he was well over it long before Freddie disappeared. And he and Freddie remained best friends afterwards. You're seeing things that simply don't exist. I hope you've got a better theory than that or else you're never going to find this killer.'

'We don't deal in theories, Naomi. Police work isn't like that. We're only interested in finding out facts and collecting evidence. That's how we'll find the killer.'

Naomi snorted in derision. She wouldn't have put a penny of anyone's money, let alone her own, on the cops tracking down the mystery serial killer if they were seriously looking at Cook as a possible suspect. 'Have you finished with all these questions? Can I go now? I've told you everything I know. Or are you really going to lock me up on a charge?'

The blonde bit her lip anxiously, worried that her last few cutting remarks might have come across as just a bit too confrontational and defiant for her own good but it was too late to take them back. DS Blunt had provoked her into retaliating in their war of words and Naomi had never been one to take a backward step or to err on the side of caution or discretion. She always gave as good as she got and worried about the consequences afterwards.

'Yes, you can go back to the safe house, Naomi. I've finished with you – for now. But I may want to speak to you again so don't do anything else stupid – like try to leave town or run away with Emily, do you hear me? We've still got a duty to protect you and we can only do that if we have you in our sights the whole time.'

A mentally and physically exhausted Naomi gratefully struggled to her feet and was shown out of the interview room by DS Blunt who said she would take her back out to the front where she and Emily would be driven back to the safe house. As they were walking over an agitated DC Sweeney suddenly appeared with some urgent news for Blunt which he whispered in her ear.

'DI Straw wants to see you right away, gov. Another body's turned up. Multiple stab wounds, just like the others. Looks like it could be his fourth victim.' DS Blunt nodded and allowed Sweeney to take over escorting Naomi back across to an overjoyed and relieved Emily who threw her arms around her girlfriend and hugged her so hard that she made Naomi gasp as almost all the breath in her body was squeezed out of her.

At almost the exact same time that Emily was practically suffocating the life out of Naomi, back in the empty safe house Naomi's mobile phone, which true to form she had absent-mindedly mislaid yet again and left lying in the kitchen next to the kettle, gave its distinctive ring to indicate that a message was being sent to her.


	18. Chapter 18

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi gets a rough ride from the police down at the station but is eventually released without being charged. Effy lets slip to Emily at the station about the text message she received from Cook and her trip with Katie to the shed. Cook agonises about his next course of action and seeks a safe hiding place.

.-

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL**

Emily woke up with a start and a half strangled scream of protest that got stuck in her parched throat to find that she was covered in sweat from top to toe and was breathing heavily as if she had just run a hundred metres in record time. She sat up in bed and instantly turned her head to check out the figure that was stirring restlessly next to her. Her heart was pounding furiously but it soon slowed down to a more acceptable and healthy rate once she had confirmed that Naomi was indeed still asleep in bed with her at the safe house and not languishing in some cold, dark, dank police station cell.

'Thank Christ for that' she whispered softly to herself. She had obviously been having a horrific nightmare which had caused her to awake drenched her in sweat and had frightened the shit out of her. She puffed out her cheeks and told herself to calm down and take some deep breaths. Naomi was lying on her side with her back turned towards Emily and had resumed her normal heavy sleeping rhythm which had been temporarily disturbed by Emily's aborted scream. The redhead leaned back onto the bed, pulled the duvet back over and snuggled up to Naomi, slipping one arm around her waist, immediately feeling the comforting, sensual warmth of her girlfriend's body and the faintly lingering aroma of her scent. She fought back the tears as she tried to banish from her mind pictures of a distressed, tearful Naomi lying all alone in a police cell, wondering when she would be released back into the wild again.

She glanced across at the bedside table and saw that the alarm clock was showing half past five in the morning, still the middle of the night as far as she was concerned. She closed her eyes and tried to relax and get back to sleep, holding on as tightly as she dared to Naomi without squeezing her and running the risk of waking her up unnecessarily. But she couldn't bear to let go of her and lose the desperately needed assurance that they were still very much together, physically as well as emotionally.

'Here it is, you idiot!' Emily handed over to a vexed looking Naomi her mobile phone which Emily had just found lying haphazardly behind the kettle.

'What the fuck was it doing there?' Naomi's puzzled expression drew a shrug of the shoulders from a bemused Emily who never ceased to be amazed at how often Naomi mislaid her phone, even more than she did herself.

'I expect DC Sweeney found it on the table and thought it would be hilarious to hide it where you wouldn't think of looking for it,' replied Emily with the hint of a smirk.

'I wouldn't put anything past that bastard,' muttered Naomi bitterly as she checked to see if she had received any calls or text messages since the previous evening. There was just the one text message which she called up and, with some considerable trepidation, forced herself to read in silence.

'Oh my God! Please don't say you've had another photo?' asked Emily, her heart suddenly gripped with fear and anxiety and her face beginning to turn a deathly shade of white.

'It's okay, relax. It's from Cook. He wants to know if we can try and meet up again.'

'Shit! Naoms, you've got to tell Cathy. You can't keep this from her again.' The chilling words of warning issued by DS Blunt in her interview which Naomi had related to her when they had got back to the house the previous night ran through her bones like an icy blast. She didn't want Naomi to get on the wrong side of the cops again and test their patience to the limit.

'I can't do that, Em. Cook's my friend, he's _our_ friend. I can't rat on him like that. What sort of friend would I be to do that to him? If they find him and take him in, then so be it. But I'm not going to help them to catch him!'

Emily came over to Naomi, her face full of concern and her eyes already pleading as she took the tall blonde's hands in her own. 'Naomi, you don't have a choice. Remember what the police said last night? You could be charged with obstructing them in their enquiries, for fuck's sake!'

'They didn't mean it. They just wanted to give me a ticking off, that's all.'

'Yes, they did! They've let you off with a warning once. They might throw the book at you if you do it a second time. Please! I don't want to see you locked up in a prison cell, Naoms!'

Emily's eyes were starting to water and she blinked the tears back with a shake of her head. She gazed imploringly into Naomi's eyes and her girlfriend looked back at her with a potent mixture of sullen defiance and heart-tugging misery as she struggled with her conscience and her idealistic notions of friendship, loyalty and integrity. Who would have emerged the winner in this titanic tussle is anyone's guess but before Naomi could answer Emily with her decision Cathy walked into the kitchen and could immediately see that something was up between the two girls.

'What's up?' she asked, looking at the pair of them in turn and then, noticing the mobile phone in Naomi's hand, put two and two together like the trained detective that she was and guessed at the source of the emotional exchange she had walked in on. 'Have you received a message, Naomi? Let me see, please.'

Cathy held out her hand towards the phone and waited calmly for Naomi to hand it over. Naomi looked deep into Emily's eyes, ignoring Cathy completely and searched for a sign, a secret message that she alone could read and understand. But Emily just stood watching her and prayed that Naomi would do the right thing this time and do as she was asked.

After what seemed like an interminable delay during which Emily almost bit right through her lip with the unbearable tension, Naomi reluctantly handed over the phone to a silent Cathy who read the message on the screen. 'Right. I'll give the bosses a call but I'm sure they'll want you to reply and set up a meeting for us so we can nab him.'

Naomi's mouth dropped open wide enough to drive a bus through and she practically spat out and spluttered her response with even more indignation and contempt than Emily would have imagined possible. 'You what? You've got to be fucking joking! I'm not going to trick him into being caught like that! I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye again!'

Cathy's reply was calm, measured but firm, that of a police officer just doing her job and putting to one side any personal feelings she might have about what was fair or unfair. 'I'm sorry, Naomi but if you were in my shoes you would know it was the right thing to do.' Anticipating that Naomi might do something rash and stupid like delete the message in front of her she caught Naomi unawares and smartly but without undue force removed the mobile from Naomi's hand before the blonde had a chance to react. Naomi tried to hang on to the phone but it had been taken out of her grasp by the swiftness and dexterity of Cathy's movement. The detective constable waved away Naomi's initial protestations of outrage and moved out of the room to contact Straw to get his instructions on the appropriate course of action she should take, leaving an enraged Naomi almost in tears of humiliation and resentment to be calmed down by a sympathetic Emily.

DI Straw and DS Blunt stood watching the pathologist carry out his examination of the dead body and waited calmly for his pearls of wisdom to pour forth in his own good time. He would examine the body in minute detail, a painstaking, tried and trusted process which he had performed literally hundreds of times over the course of his job and he would not be rushed by anyone, no matter how important or desperate for results, into making rash statements or judgements that could not be fully supported by the facts.

'So, what do we know so far about him, doc?' asked Blunt. The victim had been found late the previous evening, washed up in the river with no ID on him. No-one recognised him and so the only clues to his identity, at least until a proper investigation had got underway, was whatever the pathologist might be able to tell them from his examination of the silent witness that was his dead body laid out on the table beside them.

'Not much at the moment, I'm afraid. White Caucasian, obviously, age approximately early forties, I would guess. Over six feet in height, well nourished, he would have been a very fit and strong man, I would say. Judging by the condition of his hands I would suggest he was not a manual or skilled labourer. Definitely an office worker, perhaps a professional, I would venture to guess.'

'Have you any idea of time of death?' asked Blunt.

'Body temperature readings and the condition of the body suggest approximately between thirty-six and forty-eight hours ago.

'Cause of death?' DI Straw could see perfectly well what it was but he needed official confirmation nonetheless.

'Multiple stab wounds to the torso, one here in the side, two more in the chest and the abdomen.'

'Can you say if they are the same type of injuries sustained by the three young girls you examined recently?'

'I can't say for certain just yet. Similar, definitely but at this stage I would suggest they were caused by a different weapon. The entry wounds are different. Probably still a knife but these wounds seem to have been made by a knife with a much shorter blade. Why? Were you expecting them to be?'

DI Straw shook his head. 'This victim doesn't follow the pattern of the others. They were all attractive young teenage girls or women in their early twenties. This body's that of a man in his early forties. He just doesn't seem to fit even if he was stabbed to death like the others. I'm not convinced he's our serial killer's fourth victim. Not unless he had to be silenced because he knew something or witnessed one of the earlier murders.'

The two detectives watched in silence for a further five minutes as the pathologist continued his examination before leaving, having requested a full report to be sent to them as soon as possible.

'What do you reckon, gov?' asked Blunt as they left the building. 'Different killer?'

'Looks like it, Sergeant. Our guy's into good looking young women, not middle aged men. Plus, the way this body was dumped into the river and then got washed up twenty-four hours later – well, that doesn't seem like our guy. Too methodical, too precise, too professional, I'd say. I just don't buy it. I think we've got two killers on our hands now.'

Naomi had been lying on the bed for most of the morning, still in a foul mood and spitting feathers about what Cathy had said and done. Emily had sat with her for a good hour or more, holding her, hugging her and trying to talk it over with her, calmly, rationally and sympathetically. She had gone to great lengths not to be seen to be taking sides in the issue but was desperate not to make Naomi feel like she didn't understand and share her anger and frustration at what had happened that morning.

Cathy had been given the go-ahead from Straw to send a text reply to Cook – assuming it had been him who sent the message, which seemed likely. The message said he should meet Naomi in the early hours of the morning in Freddie' shed where he had suggested and that she would find some way of giving Emily and the cops the slip. Emily was highly dubious about that last point, suspecting that Cook would find it hard to believe that Naomi would want to deceive her like that but she had said nothing. If Cook became suspicious and failed to turn up, then so much the better He would still be a free man, albeit very much a permanent social outcast on the run.

After trying to comfort and cheer Naomi up for so long yet ultimately failing in her mission, Emily left her girlfriend to work out her feelings of rage and resentment on her own and in her own time. She went back downstairs and joined Cathy in the living room where the detective constable had tactfully retreated with a book to await the calming of the storm that she was well aware her actions had whipped up

'How is she?' Cathy asked with genuine concern on her face and in her voice as Emily sat down on the sofa opposite her.

'Still pretty mad and cut up about it,' replied Emily with a grimace which was the best expression she could manage to conceal the fact that she was almost on the point of tears yet again. 'She's afraid that Cook will think she's betrayed him.'

'It won't be her fault if he does show up and we catch him,' Cathy said gently, looking across at Emily and noticing how drawn and exhausted she appeared. This business was clearly taking its toll on the poor young girl, she thought and she felt dreadfully sorry for her and wished there was something she could do to make her feel better. 'He'll understand that when we get him and explain everything to him, I promise. He won't hold it against her, I'm sure of that. He'll see we gave her no choice.'

Those last few words, although meant kindly and spoken with genuine sincerity, proved too much for Emily's shattered emotional state of mind and she promptly burst into tears. After watching her helplessly for a few seconds, Cathy got up and went over to sit next to the weeping redhead and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently towards her. Emily resisted ever so slightly at first or so it felt to Cathy but maybe that was only her imagination for almost immediately Emily succumbed to Cathy's consoling and comforting gesture and slumped into the detective's side, weeping uncontrollably as the tears came flooding down her cheeks like the cascading of a waterfall.

Cathy held on to her gently, rubbing her back slowly and stroking her hair while she whispered into her ear the usual array of trite platitudes that come to one's mind with on such occasions, telling her not to worry and that everything would be okay. As she held the distressed Emily pressed right up against her she could feel the warmth and the contours of the young girl's body against hers and it made her tremble inside and caused her to let out a half suppressed gasp of pleasure. It had been a long time since she had held a really pretty young woman in her arms like she was doing right then and her mind was filled with a whirl of mixed feelings and emotions which momentarily confused and scared the living daylights out of her. Fuck! What the hell was going on here? She was supposed to be the consummate professional, dedicated to doing her duty and at all times keeping her private life and her personal feelings separate from her public life and her job.

And yet she couldn't deny the frisson of excitement and the giddy light-headedness she was feeling at that moment as she held the beautiful, sobbing, young redhead in her arms. She knew she shouldn't have allowed herself to get so close emotionally, never mind physically, to her and yet she felt almost paralysed to withdraw from her. At any moment Naomi could walk in on them unannounced and then she would have some serious explaining to do. But she knew that Emily needed a shoulder to cry on and she didn't have it in her heart to shrink back from responding to her needs. After a while Emily's tears began to subside and she stopped hanging on to her quite so desperately. Cathy sensed the moment was right to pull back a little and she forced out a weak, almost apologetic smile as she asked a question that had been puzzling her for some time.

'What is it with Naomi and Cook, Emily? I mean, I know you're all friends but somehow…..'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, would she have reacted the same if it had been any of your other friends?'

'Yes. I think so. Or at least…..' Emily gratefully accepted the tissue that Cathy had taken from her pocket and handed out to her and wiped her eyes, trying not to smudge her make-up any more than it had already been by the tide of tears. 'I suppose she and Cook were pretty close… in an odd sort of way, you know.'

'Not really. How do you mean?'

'Well she absolutely hated him when we first all met up; couldn't stand the sight of him, actually. She thought he was an arrogant, loud-mouthed, chauvinistic tosser. He thought she was a stuck-up, smart-arsed bitch. But eventually I think they kind of ended up respecting each other. I reckon they both realised they had far more in common with each other than they had first thought.'

'So, they never actually…..you know,'

'Jesus Christ! No! No fucking way! It wasn't like that between them- ever! They just became….mates, you know. Like…I dunno, like me and JJ, I suppose. Sort of…..'

Emily's face clouded over suddenly as she realised that comparing her and JJ's strictly platonic friendship, well, largely platonic friendship with Naomi's and Cook's equally odd yet innocent friendship was possibly not the most credible example she could have chosen – not that Cathy would have known anything about that, thank God. She snapped herself out of her momentary embarrassment and smiled shyly at Cathy who had shown such kindness and sympathy just then and had given her comfort and solace when she had needed it most.

Katie bobbed and weaved her way inch by inch through the massed ranks of teenagers strutting their stuff on the dance floor until eventually she reached the safe haven of the bar where Effy, Lara and JJ were standing quietly having a drink and watching with considerable amusement all the action unfolding in front of them.

'Wow!' cried Katie, her face glowing and her cheeks burning red with the high-octave energy and excitement of the last fifteen minutes furious dancing. 'It's pretty manic in there. Aren't you guys going to join me?' She picked up her glass and poured down her neck the drink that JJ had bought her just before she threw herself almost literally onto the packed dance floor and became lost in the seething, bumping, grinding mass of human maelstrom.

'Not just yet,' shouted JJ straining to make himself heard above the thumping, hypnotic beat of the music. 'Maybe later. How are you doing?'

'Good!' she yelled back. 'I've got my eye on this really gorgeous looking guy. I think he's just about ready for a full-on assault. I'll have him in the palm of my hand in fifteen minutes, provided I can get him to ditch the bitch of a girlfriend.'

The other three smiled and laughed at Katie's unshakeable confidence in her ability to pull any man who took her fancy. 'I have supreme confidence in you, Katie,' said JJ. 'I'm sure you'll knock him dead.'

'The only real problem is his fucking pain in the arse mate who's been eyeing me up on the sly all evening. He's hardly taken his eyes off me. He thinks I haven't noticed, the sad bastard but I clocked him right away. Funny thing is, I'm sure I know him from somewhere.'

'I'm sure you'll think of something, Katie,' Lara grinned at Effy and JJ. 'You always do.'

Katie giggled, waved cheerio and plunged back onto the dance floor, firmly removing with a wonderfully fake smile and expression of insincere apology anyone who got in her way. The others couldn't help laughing at her sheer brazen impudence and followed her with their eyes until she had disappeared from sight. They idly speculated on whether they might not see her again that evening and concluded that the chances were pretty remote, unless they were to run into her outside the club at the end of the night with her tongue halfway down the poor guy's throat.

It was getting on for half past twelve and almost pitch back outside the club when Katie flounced out into the cold evening air in a foul mood and muttering unrepeatable dark thoughts about men in general and this one guy in particular. Jesus Christ! Were any of them worth the fucking effort? And he had seemed so nice when she had first started talking to him. He had bought her drinks, listened carefully and with apparent interest to her telling him all about herself instead of just rabbiting on about himself the whole time which was the common schoolboy error made by guys of his age. He had even readily dropped the girl he'd turned up with at Katie's mischievous suggestion and spent the rest of the evening with her.

So she was seriously pissed off and more than a little gobsmacked when five minutes ago he made his excuses and left, hand in hand with the revolting scrubber who had mysteriously reappeared from nowhere and who flashed a knowing, gloating, humiliating smirk at Katie before they turned to leave. She had of course tried to regain some of the moral high ground and most of her dignity and self-respect by throwing the remains of her drink in his face but he must have been used to such a ploy because he managed to duck and avoid getting an embarrassing soaking. She stormed off in the mother of all huffs and headed for the back exit to find a quiet spot to stew and fume on her own.

There was hardly a soul about at the back of the club as she leaned up hard against the corner of the building and searched around in her bag for a cigarette to calm her down. The music was still thumping away inside and she could feel the faint reverberations as she leaned against the wall and popped a cigarette in her mouth. But could she find her lighter? Could she fuck! She rummaged fruitlessly in her bag for a good minute before trying her jacket pocket with equal lack of success. 'Oh, fucking brilliant!' she fumed. 'Now I can't even have a smoke either!'

She was about to give up in disgust and return inside to scrounge a light from Effy when she heard the familiar sound of a lighter being struck right behind her, followed immediately by the sensation of a naked flame being held just inches away from her face. She turned round and couldn't help letting out a tiny, muted scream of surprise and fright at the sight of a young guy dressed in a baseball cap, leather jacket and dark trousers standing right behind her and offering her the flame from his lighter.

'Fuck me!' she cried and then, after realising who it was, she calmed down a fraction, although not letting up on the abuse and the indignation. 'You frightened the shit out of me, creeping up on me like that!'

'Sorry,' he said but without smiling an apology. 'But I could see you needed a light.' He flicked the lighter again and Katie bent forward slightly after a second or two's hesitation and accepted his invitation to light her cigarette from it.

'Thanks,' she replied in a dull, flat voice as she didn't want to encourage him to hang around with her any longer than she would have deemed absolutely necessary and appropriate in return for such a minor favour.

'Do you fancy a walk? It's a beautiful night.'

Katie looked at him as if he had just asked her to perform a cartwheel for him. 'A walk? No. Why the fuck would I want to go for a walk for you?'

'Because I'm a nice guy. Because I like you. Because…you might find you like me too if you gave me a chance.'

'I doubt that,' Katie snorted, puffing away on her cigarette and turning her head away from him to contemplate the desolate, deserted scene around her. 'You're a bloke so you've got to be a complete shit, just like your mate.'

'I'm much nicer than him. He's a complete wanker. I knew he'd dump you at the end of the evening – he always does. I wouldn't. I'd want to get to know you more. Come on, let's go for a walk and you can tell me your life story.'

'No thanks. It's a lovely thought but right now I'd rather sit in a pool of piss than spend any more time with you. No offence but, let's face it, you're all dickheads, the lot of you.'

Having given him the metaphorical slap in the face, or so she thought, Katie took one final drag of her cigarette, flicked it contemptuously onto the ground and started walking away from him. She was ill prepared for what was to happen next. Had she been a little less drunk, a little more alert and a lot more suspicious she might have been able to react more intelligently. But sadly she was none of those things. He suddenly lunged forward and grabbed her wrist roughly before she had got out of reach, pulling her back towards him. She screamed with the pain, spat out a stream of well-judged invective that would have emptied any vicar's tea party and kicked out at him with one of her high-heeled boots, aiming for his meat and two veg, as you would.

But her screams stuck horribly in her throat and she froze with a clammy fear, standing stock still like a statue when she caught sight of the steely, flashing blade in his hand. He advanced upon her, the knife held out in front of him, his eyes bulging wildly, his jaw straining with fury and his mouth shut firm, although she could sense the steam rising within him and the violent shaking of his whole frame. What happened thereafter only must have lasted about ten seconds but to Katie it must have seemed like it was taking place in slow motion.

She looked frantically around her but there was no-one to be seen. She would have screamed at the top of her voice but she was so petrified that the sounds simply wouldn't come out, they got stuck somewhere deep down in her throat, no matter how hard she tried. She was struck dumb with terror and if she had stood there any longer vainly trying to make some sort of warning sound it would have been all over for her She did the only thing she could thing of, the only thing she could trust herself to do without failing miserably. She took off and ran. She tore off across the paving stones which led to the main road as fast as her legs would carry her, not daring to look behind to see how near to her he was although she could hear him almost breathing in her ear and letting out some unearthly cry of his own. Clearly he hadn't been struck dumb by the whole experience like her.

She had run about thirty yards without having any real sense of where she was going, without any true appreciation of her surroundings. She was just trying to get away from him, anywhere, somewhere where there were other people about who would see that she was in trouble and running for her life. She got to the end of the pavement but could feel his hand on her back, just about to grab hold of her again and presumably to plunge the knife into her to stop her in her tracks and, as likely as not, to bring her down on her knees. She made one final heroic effort to escape his clutches, her mind almost numb and empty with terror, no longer capable of taking in to her scrambled consciousness the sounds of the world going on around her.

She stepped out into the road without looking, indeed without even realising it was the road and then before she even knew it was upon her in an instant. The car caught her a glancing blow on the side of her body and sent her crashing to the ground, head first. She never moved once she hit the road, lying there completely still, as the car swerved far too late and screeched to a halt a few feet away from her body. Her pursuer saw all this unfold in front of his eyes and knew instantly that this was not the time to hang around and check that he didn't need to finish the job that he had started. Much as he would have loved to pick up the body and carry it off to a much more suitable dumping place, he realised he had to get the hell out of there. He had to cut his losses and retreat quickly before the one witness, the badly shaken driver, could get out of his car and get a good look at his face. He turned tail and shot off in the opposite direction, shoving the unused knife back into his pocket and running like the wind, not daring to look behind him.

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE **

I'm sorry this chapter turned out so long! I had intended it to be shorter than recent ones but as usual I got carried away! I hope it hasn't put too many of you off reading it through to the end.

I'm thinking of calling the next chapter 'What Katie Did Next' – a reference to a famous American children's book many, many years ago! Let me know what you think should happen to our Katie – should she live or should she die? If she lives, what will she be able to tell the police? Or will she be able to say anything to them?

The possibilities are many. I'd love to see which suggestions match what I have in mind already!


	19. Chapter 19

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi gets another text message from Cook which Cathy discovers. The police arrange a meeting for Naomi with Cook where they plan to lie in wait and arrest him. Cathy comforts Emily while Naomi fumes on her own in the bedroom and the DC is shocked to find she is attracted to the young girl. Katie is attacked outside a club by a guy she meets during the evening and, whilst trying to run away from the knife-wielding assailant, is knocked down in the road by a car.

.-

**CHAPTER NINETEEN: WAR AND PEACE**

Emily had always thought there was something innately depressing about a hospital corridor. There was the cold bareness of the walls, the hard, uncomfortable chairs and the painful, uneasy silence that forever hung heavy over everyone who sat in those corridors waiting for news of their loved ones, not to mention the imprecise yet ever-present smell of death in the air. She was feeling overwhelmed by all those unpleasant sensations right now as she sat with her Mum and Dad, her little brother James and a distinctly uneasy Naomi, all of them impatiently waiting for the doctor to come and give them the news about Katie.

When they had been informed that Katie had been rushed to hospital in an ambulance, all they had been told was that she had been knocked down by a car and that her injuries were serious. On arrival at the hospital the doctor had been able to elaborate a little more on the bare facts that they had been given previously. She was apparently in a critical condition but that they had managed to stabilise her and were constantly monitoring her progress. She had suffered some serious external injuries including a broken leg, arm and shoulder but it was the possible injuries to her head that were causing the medical team the greatest amount of concern. Brain surgery had not been ruled out and the doctor had not been able to give them any reassurances that Katie had not sustained serious brain damage. Clearly the next few hours would be critical.

A very tearful Emily was sitting huddled up alongside Rob Fitch who had an arm around his daughter's shoulders and was trying to comfort her with a few quiet words in her ear. James was similarly being consoled by Jenna although true to type he had declined with a sharp shrug the embarrassing offer of a hug from his mother, preferring to ensure there was sufficient distance between the two of them on the cold, hard bench. He was keen not to come across as a sad little Mummy's boy in front of Naomi whom he still fancied the arse off and whom he couldn't keep his adolescent lecherous eyes off.

'When are they going to give us some news?' cried an anguished Jenna in a voice which was dangerously close to breaking down completely. She was on the edge of hysteria, tears continually rolling down her face, holding on to Emily for dear life as if terrified of letting go of her remaining daughter for fear that something dreadful might happen to her also.

'They'll come and tell us as soon as they have something, love,' said Rob who had been largely silent while they had been sitting waiting, still stunned and in a daze at the news of his eldest daughter's accident. He had never had to spend a minute at a hospital on either of his precious daughters' account since the day they were born. He had come to see them both as virtually indestructible and now here he was, desperately waiting for news that Katie was not only going to live but that she wasn't going to be brain-damaged for the rest of her life. He was finding it hard to hang on to his senses when all he wanted to do was break down and cry. But he knew that it wouldn't help the rest of his family for them to see him like that. He had to be strong for all of them, be positive and optimistic at least as long as they still had hope that Katie would pull through all right. 'We'll just have to be patient. The doctors will be doing everything they can. She's in good hands.'

Naomi had said even less than Rob Fitch since they had been all shown to the waiting area. She could tell that Jenna hadn't wanted her there, that much was bleeding obvious from the icy looks that Jenna had shot at her at regular intervals. But Emily had insisted that she wanted Naomi with her at this difficult time and so Jenna had to bite the bullet on this one, not wishing to see Emily more upset than she already was.

In truth Naomi didn't know what to say or do to help the whole family. Of course she was upset that Katie was seemingly fighting for her life in a hospital bed but she felt powerless to do or say anything that could help and besides, as Jenna had been quick to point out on seeing her, she wasn't 'family' and this was after all a family matter which she had no part of.

'Does anyone want a drink? There's a machine over at reception. I'm happy to go and get teas or coffees if anyone wants something.' She looked around the pale, worried family faces for any flicker of acknowledgement or approval of her attempts to make herself useful and was relieved to see Rob force a weak smile at her and nod.

'Thanks, Naomi, love. I'll have a coffee with two sugars if you're going.'

James got to his feet rather too eagerly for Jenna's liking and said he would have a fizzy drink, adding that he would go with Naomi and help her carry the drinks back. Jenna shook her head curtly without bothering to look at Naomi and Emily nodded, saying she would have whatever Naomi got for herself. Naomi went off down the corridor with James trotting along in her wake like a little lapdog, trying to keep up with its big striding owner. Naomi was glad to find an excuse to escape the poisonous atmosphere of resentment and outrage that Jenna was making little or no effort to conceal from her at her unwelcome presence at such a private Fitch family crisis.

She had half a mind to just leave and get away from Jenna's silent accusing stares but she wanted to be there for Emily, she was so desperate to show the rest of the Fitch family how much she loved her and if that meant having to put up with Jenna's hatred and resentment for the rest of the night, well so be it. But it was proving to be a slow torture for her nonetheless as she could feel with every passing minute Jenna's vitriolic fury burning her face and crushing her spirit. She couldn't remember ever having been so demonstrably disliked by one person. It was totally unnerving and disturbing and she couldn't quite manage to banish from her mind the far fetched notion that maybe Jenna was somehow mixed up in this business of the photos of the dead girls. Naturally she couldn't share her doubts and suspicions with Emily so she just bottled them all up inside and let them swirl around in her head like a whirlpool of mad thoughts and irrational, improbable theories of revenge and retribution.

'Gov. I think there might be something odd about this RTA that we were called in on tonight.' DS Blunt had DI Straw on the other end of her mobile and although it was the early hours of the morning she knew she had to inform him straight away.

'What about it?' said an audibly tetchy and tired-sounding Straw.

'Well, the victim is a young girl called Katie Fitch, the twin sister of Emily Fitch. Don't you think that's just a bit too much of a coincidence?'

'I thought you said it was an RTA. It's not an attempted stabbing, is it?' Straw yawned down the phone and Blunt pulled a face, a safe enough gesture to make when her boss couldn't see her doing it.

'No, I know. But even so, I think it might be worth me taking a look into it. Just in case, you know? I mean, it's _possible_ our killer intended to use a knife but for some reason had to resort to trying to mow her down in his car.'

'It's not very likely, is it, Blunt? He's a man of habit, he sticks to what her knows, what he feels comfortable with. All his pervious victims have been stabbed to death. Why change his method now? It doesn't make sense.'

'I know, gov, but even so, I think I'll check it out all the same.'

'Fine by me. Keep me posted,' and with that DI Straw rung off, anxious to get some sleep for once. The case had been getting him down and keeping him awake at nights, so slow had been their progress in the last week. Normally they would be homing in their killer by now but, if they were honest, they hadn't really got a clue who he was in this case.

DS Blunt sighed with annoyance once Straw had rung off. She could tell he thought she would be wasting her time but she had a hunch that there was something about this car accident involving Emily's sister that wasn't quite what it seemed. On the face of it, it looked like the familiar, sad tale of a young girl coming out of a club having had far too much to drink and not paying attention to where she was going. Blunt had already established from the RTA team it wasn't a case of drink-driving. The driver of the car in the incident had been breathalysed and had tested negative. In fact the driver claimed he didn't drink alcohol at all so he was never likely to be tested positive.

Katie Fitch, by contrast, apparently reeked of alcohol when the ambulance team had arrived at the scene. DS Blunt wanted to check through the driver's statement to see if there was anything in it that might tie in with their case. Five minutes later after reading the statement she was even more convinced there was something worth following up before they let him go. The driver had said that after Katie had appeared out of nowhere in front of his car and had been knocked down, he had noticed out of the corner of his eye that a third person had been at the scene. He was sure it had been a man but he was equally adamant that he had run away from the scene by the time that he had got out of his car and rushed over to see how badly injured Katie was.

Blunt gave a half-smile of satisfaction. She had been right to be suspicious of Katie's accident. She had felt in her waters once news of the incident had reached her that this was too much of a coincidence. She would speak to the driver right now and question him further on this point of the mysterious 'third man'. She had a spring in her step as she got up from her desk and moved towards the door. Could this possibly be the breakthrough they had been praying for? She hoped to God it was. Every murder investigation needed a lucky break. Maybe at last this was theirs!

Naomi had scarcely disappeared from view for more than thirty seconds before Jenna went on the warpath. She had been holding herself back ever since she and Rob had arrived at the hospital to be confronted by 'that girl' comforting her Emily, her arms wrapped tightly around her daughter's neck as Emily sobbed on her shoulder. Just the sight of the two of them together like that, holding each other so close and intimately almost made her blow a fuse but she forced herself to bite her tongue. Rob's words on the journey over imploring her not to cause a scene were ringing as loud as a bell in her ears. She had endured with great stoicism the unwelcome presence of Emily's 'friend' – she still couldn't bring herself to refer to Naomi as Emily's 'girlfriend' – for long enough. She was fast running out of patience, tolerance and, above all, the milk of human kindness. This good-for-nothing trollop, this spanner in the works, this complete outsider had no business being here at a time of such personal family crisis. All the more so since she blamed Naomi in an indirect way for what had happened tonight.

'Why did _she_ have to come along?' Jenna cried furiously, looking daggers at Emily as soon as Naomi and James had turned the corner and vanished from sight. 'This is none of her business. She's not family! What right does she have to be here?'

'She offered to come with me and I wanted her to,' Emily replied defiantly, her eyes firing back thunderbolts at her mother who was making her feel like some helpless defendant in the witness box, being overpowered by the force of the prosecuting counsel's questioning. 'Katie was _her_ friend as well, remember. She's upset just like we all are, you know. Why shouldn't she be here? I bet you wouldn't say the same thing if she was my boyfriend.'

'If she had been your boyfriend, none of this would have ever happened!' Jenna spat out those hurtful words with real venom and Emily's mouth fell wide open in astonishment.

'What? Are you seriously blaming her for what's happened to Katie? I don't believe you just said that!' Emily's face had turned almost purple with anger, her bottom lip was trembling and she looked all set to burst into a fresh bout of tears.

'Why not?' Jenna's voice had now risen several decibels and was close to becoming a blood-curdling scream of accusation. 'This family has had nothing but bad luck since the day you met her. Think about it. Your father lost his business, we lost our lovely house, you went into a drug-filled depression after she cheated on you. And now Katie's been knocked down in a car accident. That girl's brought us nothing but misery and despair from the moment she walked into our lives. She's been like a curse on this family. Of course this is all her fault!'

'Oh, come on Jenna,' said Rob firmly, standing up and coming over to calm his wife down. 'That's not fair. This isn't Naomi's fault, you know that. This is not the time to argue amongst ourselves. Katie's fighting for her life while we're standing here screaming at each other. We should all be pulling together as one family, not tearing each other apart. What the fuck's wrong with us?'

He put an arm around Jenna who collapsed sobbing into his arms and as he pulled her closer into him he shot a beseeching look at Emily as if to ask her to forgive her mother for what she had just said and come over and join in a group Fitch hug. But Emily shook her head from side to side and sat back down again, refusing to even look at her Mum and Dad, instead fixing her gaze on the floor in front of her. Just at that moment Naomi came into view with James and walked back up the corridor carrying some drinks. They had clearly heard some of the shouting and screaming for their faces were etched with anxiety and fear about what kind of strained atmosphere they might be returning to.

Naomi somewhat nervously held out the plastic cup of coffee to Rob who took it with a nod of thanks. She held out the cup in her other hand to Emily who got up and went over to the blonde, taking it from her without saying a word. James looked across to his Mum and Dad and with a shaky voice asked 'What's happened? Mum? Dad? What is it? Is Katie okay? Has the doctor said anything to you?'

'No, son. There's no news. We haven't seen him yet,' said Rob quietly, patting a still tearful Jenna on the back.

'So, what's been going on? Something's happened. What is it?' James wasn't going to let go of the subject despite his father's desperate attempts to gesture to him to sit down and drop the matter.

Emily slipped a hand into Naomi's as the blonde looked at Emily closely for an explanation. She could see the redhead was on the verge of tears and thought she could guess that words had been exchanged with Jenna about her being there with them. If Rob thought that Jenna had calmed down sufficiently by now to allow them all to sit down, sip their drinks and quietly and calmly await news of Katie's progress he was to be proved sadly mistaken. Jenna slowly pulled herself away from Rob's firm hold on her and might have contemplated sitting down and saying no more about the whole thing if she hadn't immediately spotted Emily standing close to Naomi and holding hands with her while they gazed mournfully into each other's eyes.

She snapped again. Seeing Emily hanging on to Naomi at that very second seemed to her confused, scrambled, terror-stricken mind like the ultimate betrayal. In her eyes Emily's move across to stand next to Naomi was a clear indication of a conscious decision on her daughter's part to turn her back on her family in favour of this wanton piece of garbage who had been nothing but bad news for them right from the very beginning. In going over to be with her rather than seek comfort with her mother and father, Emily had apparently snubbed her own flesh and blood at a time of real family pain and suffering to side with this shameless lesbian who had poisoned her daughter's mind and filled her head with all kinds of utter nonsense about her true sexuality. She couldn't control herself any more. All her pent-up feelings of animosity and resentment, her bitter hatred of this girl who had ruined her youngest daughter's life and might indirectly be responsible for ruining her other daughter's life suddenly rose to the surface like a tidal wave crashing onto the beach and spilling its spray all over the sand.

She flew across the corridor towards Naomi like a woman possessed by all the demons, without warning and with such speed that the blonde scarcely had a chance to anticipate Jenna's intentions and prepare to defend herself from the ensuing onslaught. She slapped the young girl across the cheeks with both hands with such ferocity that the blows sounded like the crack of a whip before proceeding to try to punch her on the nose but missing wildly, so uncontrolled and imprecise was her attempt. She overbalanced in the process and lurched against Naomi who had by now realised what was happening and had begun to fight back and the two women traded pushes and blows to the head and the upper body until one such slap by Jenna caught Naomi off guard and she fell backwards and slipped.

She came crashing down against the wall of the corridor and smacked the side of her head before coming to rest on her backside, with her back hard against the wall. Blood started to ooze down the side of her face as the others, who had watched the catfight as though utterly transfixed in time, hardly able to believe what they were witnessing, eventually snapped out of their momentary stupor and rushed over to separate the Amazonian warriors and gently help a stunned and tearful Naomi up to her wobbly feet. She held her hand to the side of her head and felt the blood trickling down the side of her face from a nasty open wound that had appeared above her left ear.

Rob had grabbed hold of Jenna who was crying hysterically and tried to clam her down while Emily and James between them helped Naomi to her feet, Emily in floods tears and James with his face as white as a sheet, not knowing what to make of it all. The family that he loved was falling apart before his very eyes and he didn't know what to say or how to think. He just wanted them all to stop beating each other up and think of Katie who might be dying at that moment for all they knew or even seemed to care.

The uproar caused by the fight had unsurprisingly attracted the attention of Cathy who had been keeping a discreet eye on them all from a tactfully safe distance but now came running down the corridor from the other direction to where Naomi and James had gone off in search of drinks. She went straight over to sit down next to where Naomi had been helped by Emily and James and had a quick look at Naomi's wound.

'You'd better get that seen to,' she said kindly with a sympathetic look. 'It's not serious but you don't want to take any chances. You might have concussion. Come on, I'll take you over and we'll ask for a doctor to have a look at it and clean it up.'

Naomi nodded and then winced in pain as Cathy helped her gingerly to her feet and slowly led her away down the corridor in the direction of the reception, leaving a distraught Emily to be comforted by the rest of her family, including an extremely distressed Jenna who had been left stunned and shocked by Naomi's fall and was now crying her eyes out, repeatedly saying she was sorry and begging Emily to forgive her.

'So tell me exactly what happened tonight, Mr Stephens. Take your time and try and remember as much detail as you can.,' said DS Blunt with what she hoped was an encouraging smile that would put him at his ease. Mr Stephens was a short, dark-haired man in his mid-fifties, he guessed, well-dressed and equally well-spoken. He seemed like he would make a good witness if it should come to that.

'Well, I was just driving back home after a late business meal. I was going past that night club place- I wasn't speeding, mind, no way I was only going at forty - then suddenly this young girl came flying out of nowhere and ran right out in front of me. I never even saw her. I had my eyes on the road, you know, so I didn't stand a chance of avoiding her. I slammed on the brakes, of course but it was too late. I'd already hit her and she'd gone down like a ton of bricks. It was horrible, I can still see the poor lass's terrified face as the car hit her before she went down.'

He shivered as he described the scene and took a swig from the second strong cup of tea which had been brought to him to steady his nerves. 'Go on, Mr Stephens. You're doing fine. Then what happened?'

'Well, I got out of the car, of course and ran round to see how she was. She wasn't moving or saying anything so I assumed she was unconscious. There was some blood coming from a wound on the side of her head. It was awful. For a few seconds I was in a panic. You know, like frozen to the spot. Then I came to my senses and as I could see she was badly hurt I got my mobile out and rang for an ambulance, like you would.'

'In your statement you mentioned something about there being another person around at the time of the accident.'

'Yes. I'm certain that there was someone else there at the time that I hit her.'

'What makes you say that? Now I need you to think very carefully before you answer. What you say could be very important so take your time and think back to last night. Try and picture in your mind exactly what you saw from the moment the young girl ran out in front of you.'

DS Blunt held her breath and prayed that Mr Stephens would be able to provide enough evidence to warrant her making further enquiries into Katie's accident. She wasn't expecting a full description of the guy, that much she had ruled out what with everything having happened so quickly but she was hoping he would give them something, some little details that would be enough for them to go on.

'It was just s feeling I had when the girl ran out in front of me. You see, although we're only talking about a fraction of a second in time, I'm almost certain that there was someone else just behind her at the time she ran out into the road. The poor girl seemed already frightened BEFORE I even hit her. In fact I would go so far as to say she might even have been screaming. I definitely heard some sort of shrill, high-pitched sound before I hit her.'

'Surely that would have been her screaming at the sight of your car just about to hit her, Mr Stephens?'

'No, I don't think it can have been. You see, she was looking straight ahead when I hit her. She wasn't looking at me at all. I'm not even sure she realised she was crossing a main road at all.'

'What _do_ you think she was doing, then?'

'I think she might have been running away from something…..or someone, perhaps.'

'Tell me about this other person that you referred to in your statement. When exactly did you see him?'

'It was after I got out of the car. Obviously I was concentrating on the girl at first. I was worried sick I might have killed her and so I didn't have eyes for anything else. But when I came to my senses and began to reach in my pocket for my phone I lifted up my head to see if there was anyone around who could help, that's when I saw this guy running off like the clappers.'

'Can you describe him?'

Mr Stephens shook his head. 'Not really. It was dark and he was already a fair old distance away. But I'm sure it was a man. He was quite tall, I guess, slim build, dark clothes, I think. Certainly nothing bright, that's for sure.'

DS Blunt's heart sank a little. That wasn't going to be of much help at all. 'Anything else you remember? Was there anything else at all about him that seemed unusual or strange?'

'Well, there was one thing. I can't be absolutely positive but now I come to think of it, I did get the impression that…' he paused and screwed up his eyes as if he was trying to picture the scene again in his eyes, trying to conjure up the image from the darkest recesses of his memory and bring it to the forefront of his mind.

'What, Mr Stephens?' DS Blunt bit her lip to stop herself from shouting at him 'Come on, you old fool! Spit it out, for Christ's sake!'

'I haven't a clue how to explain it exactly but I'm almost certain I saw something bright, like, glinting in his right hand as he was running away.'

Blunt took in a long, slow, deep breath before she asked her next question. 'Do you mean he was holding something in his hand which was giving off a reflection of some kind -something with a bright, shiny surface? Could it have been, say, a knife?'

'Yes! Yes, do you know, you could be right! It might have been a knife he had in his hand. So do you think this guy might have been trying to attack the poor girl and that's why she was running away from him?'

'It's possible, Mr Stephens, it's quite possible. That's what I intend to find out in any case.'

Naomi sat alone on the sofa in the living room back at the safe house and took another giant swig from the bottle of vodka that she had grabbed hold of as soon as she had set foot in the place. Cathy was on the phone to DC Sweeney checking that everything was okay back at the hospital and had wisely decided to give Naomi some personal space to sort her head out. Little did she know what dark, malevolent thoughts were running through the young girl's mind at that moment.

For Naomi was intent on two very separate things. Firstly, to get absolutely rat-arsed in an attempt to numb both the physical pain she was feeling and the mental torment she was suffering after the events of that evening. Secondly she was running through in her mind the various ways she could imagine killing Jenna Fitch and getting away with it. As she lay back on the sofa, exhausted and emotionally spent, the only thought that could put a smile on her otherwise miserable, tear-stained face was the image of Jenna lying stone cold dead at her feet. She let out a chilling, terrifying laugh which seemed to emanate from the pit of her stomach and which surprised even her with its ferocious intensity and its strength of purpose. Do wishes really come true?

-.


	20. Chapter 20

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: The Fitch family and Naomi wait anxiously in the hospital for news of Katie after the car accident outside the night club. The police interview the driver of the car who tells them he thinks Katie might have been running away from a man with a knife when she ran out in front of his car. Jenna cracks under the emotional strain and has a fight with Naomi who suffers accidental injuries to her head as a result. Naomi is taken back to the safe house after being patched up and drinks herself to sleep with dark, vengeful thoughts of Jenna filling her head. .

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY: THE HEAT IS ON**

Teetotallers apart, who hasn't woken up in the morning at least once in their life with the mother of all hangovers and cringing at the memory of the things they said or did the previous evening in a drunken stupor. So it was with Naomi when she woke up the next morning. She was embarrassed to find she was still stretched out on the sofa where she had crashed the night before after having been driven back from the hospital, her ego and her face badly beaten up by Jenna Fitch. The half-full bottle of vodka which she remembered doing some serious damage to during her lonely bout of self-pitying was now transformed into an empty bottle and had rolled down in the night to rest between her body and the back of the sofa where it lay neatly wedged against her right hip.

As she struggled with very little grace or co-ordination to ease herself up into an upright position, her head pounding with the effects of the alcohol and her eyes bleary and heavy, she let out a groan as her jerky movements made the side of her face throb with the dull pain of the stitched-up wounds. She felt like she was eighteen going on eighty. She sat up and put her head in her hands for a while before rubbing her eyes and gently feeling the bandage which had been applied by the nurse at the hospital. All was still in the house. There was no sign of DC Sweeney moping around downstairs so Naomi presumed he was still fast asleep. She had a few precious moments to think and take stock of her situation.

A multitude of vivid memories came flooding into her head of the dreadful events of the previous evening. Katie's accident came first and the appalling image of her lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life brought momentary tears to her eyes. She and Katie may not have always got on like a house on fire, that much was beyond dispute. Nevertheless the two girls were kind of like sisters-in-law in Naomi's mind and they had gradually developed over the last couple of years an acceptable level of mutual tolerance and respect for each other. Naomi was willing her to pull through and make a full recovery, not just for herself but for Emily's sake as well. Naomi knew how utterly devastated Emily would be to lose her twin. In fact it hardly bore thinking about it and so she quickly dismissed the thought from her head - the consequences for Emily well-being and general state of mind were too hideous to contemplate.

But thoughts of Emily prompted images of her still waiting anxiously with her family for news of Katie's progress. Naomi assumed they hadn't had any positive news otherwise Emily would surely have called her the moment they had any as she had instructed her to do. She longed to be with her right then, thumping hangover notwithstanding, holding her and hugging her, reassuring her that Katie would be fine, that she was as tough as old boots and was bound to pull through, if only so they could continue their running battle of quips, sarcastic remarks and sly little digs at each other which always brightened up an otherwise dull, uneventful day for the pair of them.

A sudden throbbing at the side of her head made Naomi wince and instantly provoked fresh memories of her fight with Jenna at the hospital and the tirade of insults and accusations which had prompted Naomi's drunken mission when she had got home.

She began to recall some of the bile and hatred she had felt for Jenna while she was hitting the bottle in the early hours of the morning. She vaguely remembered running through a list of the ways in which she could bump off Emily's mother that would immediately make everything right in her life and she felt thoroughly ashamed and embarrassed.

She could see perfectly clearly now, in the cold light of day, that Jenna was simply overreacting to Naomi's presence at such a personal family crisis situation. She accepted that Jenna was never going to be her number one fan but her attack at the hospital, both physical and verbal, was borne out of sick dread and worry about Katie which unsurprisingly had pushed the poor woman right over the edge. It was an incident waiting to happen and Naomi knew she shouldn't have been shocked that it did happen at that particularly stressful and vulnerable time. Naomi shuddered and cringed at the memory of the stupid, childish things that ran through her mind whilst she was drinking herself into a self-induced oblivion. She must have been seriously pissed - or maybe she was still suffering delayed shock and wasn't really responsible for her actions. Whatever. Right now she felt embarrassed and ashamed and vowed never to reveal to a living soul the dreadful thoughts that had gone through her mind.

She peered, squinting slightly, at her watch. It was probably still too early to call Emily to find out how Katie was doing. She would give it another hour and then call her. She lay back on the sofa, having removed the bottle and placed it on the table, and closed her eyes. She felt emotionally drained and physically exhausted and within a minute or two she was fast asleep again.

Cook peered one more time through the binoculars which he had bought off a market trader and which he knew had to be knock-off and gave the merest hint of a smile of satisfaction as he observed the team of armed police officers leave the McClair back garden and return empty-handed to the police van parked a little way down the street.

For fuck's sake! How dumb did they think he was? Did they really imagine in their wildest dreams that he would be innocently waiting for them in the shed, totally unprepared for their ambush attempt? Clearly they were more stupid than even he gave them credit for. Those fuckwits were going to have to get up a hell of a lot earlier in the day if they wanted to catch him out so easily.

Not that he wasn't intrigued to know how they had found out about his planned rendezvous with Naomi in the small hours of the morning. He guessed that either they had intercepted his text message to Naomi or that they had blackmailed the poor girl or put her under some kind of pressure to reveal the message which they had then decided to exploit in order to catch him. Either way, their plan had failed miserably. He had anticipated that Naomi might not come alone, with or without her knowledge and he had taken sensible precautions, ensuring he had a good view of Freddie's back garden and shed and could see all traffic going in and out of it a good hour before they were due to meet.

Instinctively he didn't blame Naomi for the unwanted police presence this morning. He knew she was a true friend and would never have ratted on him to the police so there was nothing to forgive her for. She had just been used by them as they had used so many innocent people for donkey's years in pursuit of their objectives. Only he had been smarter than them, not for the first time. They had never really been terribly close to apprehending him since his escape from prison and he doubted very much whether they ever would catch him. He may not have been blessed with the kind of intelligence that would make him rich and successful in life but he had a certain cunning awareness, an undeniable street- savviness about him together with an almost sixth sense that always seemed to enable him to stay one step ahead of any sign of impending danger and disaster. You couldn't learn that at any school or college. You picked that up on the street. You learned the hard way and you never forgot how to use it.

Cook gave a small sigh of irritation as he watched the police van drive away. At least the unsuccessful dawn raid had taught him one thing – Freddie's shed would have to be seen as out of bounds now that the police knew all about it. He would have to look elsewhere for a safe haven until his mission in Bristol was accomplished. So, where else could he hide out? One obvious suggestion came to mind. It had worked before reasonably well and he saw no reason why, with a bit of arm-twisting and gentle persuasion, it shouldn't work again. He put the binoculars away in his rucksack and set forth for JJ's house. Sure it was early but he was confident he would still be able to rouse JJ from his slumbers. JJ had always been there for him when he had needed him. Why should this morning be any different? That's what friends are for, after all!

Naomi returned to the bedroom from the bathroom and made sure to lock the door behind her. She could hear sounds coming from downstairs which could only mean one thing – DC Sweeney was up and about and she didn't want him bursting in on her when she only had a towel between her and his big leering eyes. She went over to the mirror and started combing her hair out. Already she felt so much better, so much more human and alive for having had a warm, refreshing shower. Her hangover was slowly starting to fade away and she took another large gulp of hot black coffee to accelerate the sobering up process.

Once she was dressed she would try to call Emily to find out the news about Katie and discuss with her whether it was a good idea for her to join her at the hospital or whether she should give it a bit longer. The last thing Naomi wanted was to stir up any bad blood with Jenna all over again. If Ems thought it best for her to keep a safe distance from her mother for the time being then Naomi would reluctantly go along with her girlfriend's wishes, even if it meant she couldn't be with her to comfort her.

A knock on the door brought dreamy thoughts of Emily crashing to a halt.

'Naomi? Are you all right?' asked Sweeney through the closed door and much to Naomi's horror she saw him try the door handle.

'I've just had a shower. I'm getting dressed!' replied Naomi not bothering to conceal the twin notes of disapproval and irritation in her voice. 'I'll be down soon. Whatever you want, can't it wait?'

'I just thought I should let you know the news about your mate Cook.'

Naomi's heart sank and missed a beat. Could this be the last straw, the final nail in the coffin of a miserable last twelve hours? If the cops had picked up Cook in Freddie's shed, helped in no small measure by herself, no matter how reluctantly and under massive protest, could she feel any worse about life right now?

'What news?' she said, closing her eyes as if to try to block out the answer she was expecting.

'The bastard didn't turn up. It was a complete waste of time.'

'Oh, what a shame,' she said with a big grin on her face and the first stirrings of joy and relief in her heart for some considerable time. 'How terribly tiresome for you all. You must be pig sick about that.'

'I kind of guessed you'd be pleased,' Sweeney snorted audibly which only made Naomi chuckle to herself some more. 'God knows why you like the bloke. From what I've heard, he's a complete shit.'

'Well, it takes one to know one, doesn't it, Constable. Now, unless you happen to get off on listening to girls getting dressed outside a locked door, would you be so kind as to piss off back downstairs? I'll be down in ten minutes if you're desperate to give me a blow by blow account of how Cook got away from you _yet again_.'

Soon Naomi was dressed and sitting on the bed speaking to Emily on her mobile. There had been no major developments in Katie's condition overnight. It remained serious but stable and the doctor and nurses were keeping tabs on her progress every half an hour. She was still on the critical list but the fact that her condition hadn't got any worse over the last seven or eight hours was seen as a promising sign but no more than that. Emily sounded so distressed and dead on her feet that Naomi could have burst into tears but she willed herself to stay strong and positive for Emily's sake.

'Well that's good news, Ems, isn't it? You've _got_ to concentrate on that. You have to cling on to every little positive sign that she's going to pull through. Come on, sweetheart. Hang on in there, eh? Katie's a fighter; you know that better than anyone. She's going to fight for all she's worth, so you mustn't give up on her, do you hear?'

On the other end of the line Emily nodded and smiled weakly through a sea of tears. She knew Naomi was right. It was so good to hear her voice; she had missed her beyond belief during their awful night vigil at the hospital and already just talking to her on the phone made her feel so much more optimistic about Katie's chances of surviving. It was amazing how much better any situation seemed, no matter how dire and depressing on the face of it, so long as Naomi was with her in spirit if not in body.

'I won't. None of us will. We know she'll pull through in the end.' There was a silence and then Emily added with a degree of hesitation 'Naoms… Mum's really sorry for losing it like she did last night. She was just…. sick with worry about Katie. She didn't mean to hurt you. It was a complete accident, you know.'

Naomi reassured Emily that she knew Jenna didn't mean for her to get hurt the way she did but when she asked her girlfriend if she thought it would be better for everyone if she stayed at the house for a while and gave her Mum some space Emily agreed with a heavy heart and an aching in her soul. Desperate as the redhead was to have Naomi there with her she recognised that it would ease the tension and stress that the whole family were under if Naomi kept away for a while, at least until they had received some positively encouraging news about Katie. Tempers and emotions were on too much of a knife edge for Naomi's presence to be tolerated, never mind encouraged just yet.

'Okay. I suppose you're right. But you will call me as soon as you have any news, won't you?' Emily duly promised she would and the girls were about to ring off when Naomi remembered to give her the news about Cook, the one tiny shaft of light in an otherwise very dark and sombre last twelve hours. This did seem to cheer Emily up a fraction judging by her reaction and the modest note of relief in her voice. After Naomi finished the call, she stood up and went over to the mirror to make sure she had wiped away all traces of the silent tears she had been secretly shedding during her call with Emily. She didn't want DC Sweeney to see she had been crying. She was sure he wouldn't be able to resist making some pathetic cutting remark at her expense. She was feeling lonely and vulnerable enough as it was and being alone in the house with an insensitive, unsympathetic arsehole like him was unlikely to improve her mood and state of mind. She found she was actually missing having Cathy around.

'Right, listen up everyone! Come on, shut it!'

DI Straw's loud, authoritarian, insistent voice brought the indistinct murmurings and mumblings to an end in the incident room. All heads swivelled round to face him, all ears were pricked, all eyes were trained in on him as he addressed his murder team from the front of the room.

'Last night at around one o'clock this girl,' he pointed to a recent picture of a smiling Katie which had been pinned up on the incident board, 'Katie Fitch, the twin sister of Emily Fitch was accidentally knocked down by a car after she had been out clubbing with friends. She is currently in hospital fighting for her life.

He looked over at DS Blunt standing on the other side of the board and she took her cue to continue the update. Straw always liked to involve his sergeant in his team meetings and they had developed quite an impressive double act over the last few years that they had been working together.

'We don't suspect the driver of deliberately trying to kill her – he doesn't fit our profile of the killer at all _but_ he has made a statement that suggests that Katie might have been running away from a young man with a knife when she ran out in front of the car. The driver says there was definitely another person close by on the scene when the accident occurred and this person, whoever he was, immediately ran off without stopping to help when the driver got out of his car.'

'So, the theory is he didn't want to be recognised by anyone else and took the chance that Katie was dead?' said a voice from the middle of the room.

'That's the assumption we're making at the moment,' said Blunt, nodding. 'Now, we can't be certain that this mystery witness to the accident is our man but if it is, this is the first sighting we've had of him and our first chance to try to track him down. Let's assume that Katie either knew this guy or got talking to him in the night club during the evening and that later on he followed her out of the club and attacked her.'

'We need to swarm all over this club,' said Straw with an air of purpose and quiet positivity which made everyone sit up and take notice. 'We need to know names and addresses of everyone who was in that club last night and they will all need to be interviewed. I don't care who they are - the owners, the managers, bar staff, DJ's, bouncers, every clubber, no matter how young or old, If there was a fucking toilet attendant there during the evening I want him or her interviewed, do you hear?'

There followed an instant collective response of 'Yes, gov!' and a visible air of optimism and good humour from the murder team. At last they could all sense that the investigation, which for the last two weeks had been frustratingly going nowhere, might be taking a turn in the right direction. Finally they had something concrete to go on, a genuine lead which, if persistent and painstaking police methods and procedures were carried out precisely and assiduously, might just lead them to the killer. As the team of detectives got up and began to collect their assignments, Straw took Blunt to one side.

'Get Cathy back to the safe house. I want her and Sweeney to stick close to Naomi Campbell and get two men over to the hospital and keep guard on Katie Fitch- right outside her room, if necessary.'

'Do you really think the killer will try to kill her again, then, gov? It'll be a hell of a risk, won't it?'

'I don't know, Blunt, but we can't take any chances. He might be terrified that she'll pull through, regain consciousness and be able to identify him. Even if she doesn't know his name, she could give us a description of him which would help us to track him down.'

'Or he could decide that he's running out of time now and step up his efforts to get to Naomi – assuming she was the main target for him all along.'

'Very possibly. Each new victim or intended victim has been someone closer to Naomi than the previous one.'

'Well, if he chose Katie Fitch because she was the twin sister of Naomi's girlfriend as well as being a close friend, then logically his next target, if he doesn't move straight on to Naomi….'

'Would be her girlfriend, Emily.' Straw neatly finished off Blunt's incomplete analysis. 'Yes, I know. We need to get Emily back with Naomi, I think, no matter how worried she might be about her sister. She'll be safer with Naomi in the house with our guys than in the hospital where all sorts of characters can roam around without any questions being asked. See to it, will you?'

Cook looked around intently for a few seconds before bending down and picking up a few small round stones from the flower bed. He narrowed his eyes, took careful aim and then threw one of the stones with his right arm up towards the window of JJ's bedroom. He hit a bullseye with his first shot but as that didn't immediately produce the desired effect of seeing JJ's face at the window he was forced to launch a couple more missiles which thudded so hard into the window that for a second he mistakenly thought he had cracked it. Surely that last one couldn't have failed to wake JJ?

Sure enough, the unmistakeable face of his erstwhile funny friend appeared bleary eyed at the window, first gazing down with befuddled curiosity into the garden and then staring wild-eyed and open-mouthed as he caught sight of Cook waving up at him from the shadows of the trees. JJ opened the window and in little more than a hoarse whisper cried out 'Cook? Is that really you? What….I mean…..oh my fucking God! I don't believe it! Where the hell have you been? I…..I…..'

'Calm down, Jay, calm down. I'm not a ghost. It's me all right. Just get your arse down here quick. I need to talk to you.'

JJ seemed frozen to the spot, staring disbelievingly at the unfamiliar features of his old mate whom he was almost struggling to recognise with his new-found appearance. But eventually he shut the window and disappeared from view only to emerge a minute or two later at the back door which he held open for Cook to pass swiftly and silently through and into the kitchen.

'What the hell are you doing here, Cook? The police are still looking for you, you know. You're still a wanted man. Where have you been hiding? I thought you'd gone for good.'

'I had to come back, JJ me old mate. I had one or two things to do, really important things, you know, that I couldn't run away from.'

'What things?'

'On a need to know basis, JJ, you don't need to know about them. It's safer that way, trust me.'

JJ looked at Cook very closely and suspiciously. His friend seemed and sounded like a completely different guy from the one he had been to school and college with for so many years and had shared so many weird and wonderful, not to say downright crazy and dangerous, experiences with. There wasn't a hint of Cook's trademark humour, wit or cheekiness about him. He came across as a far more serious, distant, aloof figure than he'd ever been before. The stark change in his facial appearance, which JJ naturally put down to his need to mask his identity to the public eye as a hardened criminal on the run, made him look much older than he was and lent him an unaccustomed weariness. His eyes no longer sparkled with the old Cook magical wit and fervour. By contrast they seemed to hold a certain sadness within their dull, almost lifeless depths. There was none of the fire and brimstone of old and this shocked JJ into an uneasy silence.

'So what have you come here for?' JJ finally whispered as they sat down at the table opposite each other.

'I've got one final job to do, Gayjay. I need somewhere to hole up. Not for long, just a couple of days, that's all!' Cook added hurriedly, seeing the look of panic in JJ's eyes.

'You can't stay here, Cook. Not after the last time. Mum will have an absolute fit. She _will_ call the cops straight away when she finds you…and she will find you, trust me. She still checks the house every bloody day to make sure you're not hiding somewhere.'

'I need somewhere safe, JJ. Where else can I go? I can't go to Naomi's. The place is swarming with the filth. What the fuck is all that about, anyway?'

JJ spent the next five minutes giving Cook a potted history of the shocking events involving Naomi and Emily of the last couple of weeks. When he had been fully brought up to speed Cook was silent and appeared deep in thought, his face markedly paler and more anxious than before. The story certainly seemed to have had a profound effect on him from where JJ was sitting. His mate let out a soft whistle of astonishment and rubbed his chin as if searching for inspiration and ideas.

'Well, this changes my plans somewhat, JJ. I can't leave while the girls are in danger. I'm going to have to hang around until this psycho is caught.'

'Cook, that's the police's job. Let them work it out. There's no sense whatsoever in you getting involved. You'll just end up getting caught.'

'I'm not going to run out on Naomikins and Emilio. They need me right now to protect them.'

JJ shook his head and wrung his hands nervously. This was the last thing he wanted to see happen, Cook getting himself mixed up in things that had nothing to do with him and bringing himself down in the process.

'Don't be an idiot, Cook. This is madness! What can you do? The police will get this guy eventually. Why get involved?'

'Well, they obviously haven't found him yet, have they, coz they're still protecting the girls? They're a bunch of clueless tossers, JJ. I mean, just look at them. They haven't caught me yet and I've been hanging around town for over a week now.'

JJ fell silent again. Maybe Cook would change his mind if he had time to think and relax somewhere safe instead of continually being on the move, hiding from prying eyes and roaming coppers all over the place. 'Well, you still can't stay here, Cook. It's just not safe.'

'Then we need to think of somewhere else, Jaykins. I need a secure base for a few days - just until I've finished what I've got to do here.'

'Hang on,' said JJ, getting up and moving towards the doorway. 'I've got an idea. Let me make a quick call. There is maybe somewhere you can stay for a short while. But I'll have to ask really, really nicely. She probably won't be happy with the idea but I'll try and talk her round. Stay here and don't make a sound. I'll be back soon.'

The tall, slim figure wearing the baseball cap pulled well down to shadow his face and the rather unnecessary sunglasses, considering the lack of bright sunshine that crisp autumn morning, was monitoring the hospital entrance with keen attention. He was a safe distance away, at least fifty yards and comfortably out of sight of everyone but he had excellent eyesight and could plainly make out all the people coming and going in and out of the hospital. His eyes were trained at that moment on the small, slight figure of a girl with rich, dark red hair as she was being escorted in to the back of a car by another woman and then slowly driven away, leaving the two men who had jumped out of the car when it had pulled up outside the entrance to make their way through the doors and plunge into the darkness inside.

The keen observer from afar lit a cigarette and stayed where he was, in turn inhaling and exhaling deeply while he immersed himself in thought. He had to stay calm and not panic. All was not lost, not yet anyway. He still had time to strike if he kept his nerve and above all his wits about him. But he knew he had to make a choice, he had a very difficult decision to take and he wanted to give it his utmost attention and concentration. His whole future could depend on whether he made the right call for the situation he was in.

He had confidence in his abilities to outwit everyone who was after him but he needed to stay focused and work out his next course of action. The clock might have been ticking but he was still the one in control. He was still the person making all the running, calling all the shots and dictating the course of events. They were all running around like headless chickens while he was calmness personified and he was still revelling in the power he held over his pursuers. Granted, it was now very much game on but he was holding a very healthy lead and it was up to the opposition to chase the game. He laughed to himself as she took another long drag of his cigarette. How he loved toying with them, the poor deluded fools! They really hadn't a clue what sort of person they were up against. It was time to turn up the heat and watch them fry!


	21. Chapter 21

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi wakes up with a hangover, regretting the thoughts of hatred and revenge she felt for Jenna the previous night. Cook spots the trap laid for him by the police at Freddie's shed and fails to show up, leaving the police frustrated. Katie's condition at the hospital is unchanged yet stable. The police get to work on tracking down everyone who was at the club and interviewing them. Cook shows up at JJ's looking for somewhere to crash out for a few days. The killer observes Emily being driven away from the hospital back to the safe house.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: CRASH COURSE TO OBLIVION**

Naomi was lying on the sofa casually reading a magazine without much interest or concentration when she heard the sound of a car pull up outside the house. She looked across out of the window with only a modicum of curiosity and was surprised yet overjoyed to see Emily get out with Cathy in close attendance. What did Emily's reappearance back at the house so soon mean? She swallowed hard and held her breath. Surely it couldn't mean Katie had died? Oh God, she couldn't bear it if that had happened, she thought. But Emily didn't look utterly devastated and in pieces as she would have expected so it couldn't be that, surely? So why had she been brought back?

She got up to rush to the door and welcome her in but DC Sweeney had already beaten her to it and with a silent gesture, almost dismissive in its action, motioned to her to get back in the living room and wait there. Clearly the police weren't taking any chances on her sticking so much as her nose out of the front door in case someone took a pot shot at her. Naomi could only hazard a guess that something big had happened or that there had been fresh instructions from on high for that approach to be the order of the day. She duly waited impatiently on the sofa for Emily and Cathy to come in and tell her what the fuck was occurring.

Cathy and Emily came into the room after exchanging a few words with DC Sweeney on the way and Emily immediately rushed over to Naomi and threw herself into her outstretched arms crying softly.

'Ems! What's happened? Is Katie okay?'

'She's doing all right,' said Cathy before Emily could lift her face from where it was buried on Naomi's neck and answer. 'But you two could be in danger now.'

'Why?' said Naomi in little more than a rasping whisper as she continued to hold on tightly to Emily who was clinging on to her like she was afraid to let go of her even for a second. 'What's happened?'

'Sit down the pair of you and just listen to me.' Cathy came over to the sofa and sat down opposite the two girls who had recognised the calm insistence in Cathy's voice that brooked no argument and did as they were told.

'The driver of the car that Katie ran out in front of thinks she might have been running away from a man with a knife at the time. We can't be certain but it could have been our killer who was trying to make Katie his next victim.'

'Oh my God!' Naomi turned noticeably pale as he pictured the image that Cathy's brief explanation had conjured up in her head and drew a still sobbing Emily closer to her.

'We're trying to track down everyone who was in the club at the same time as Katie last night and interview them. If our man was in there then we'll find him, I promise you.'

Naomi looked at Emily and gave her an encouraging squeeze and with a superhuman effort forced a smile at her. 'You hear that, Ems? They've got their first real lead. They're going to track this psycho down and as soon as they identify him they'll catch him. Right?'

Naomi stared at Cathy accusingly, demanding confirmation and assurances that would put their minds at rest. She needed Cathy to give them real hope that this nightmare that they had been living in the last few weeks might soon be over, that there was genuine light at the end of the tunnel at last and that they could go back to their normal lives again. She dared the policewoman to crush their spirit and extinguish the flame of hope that had just been lit.

'I hope so, Naomi,' Cathy nodded encouragingly, realising that she had to give the girls a positive spin on the enquiries that even as she spoke were already underway without recklessly guaranteeing their imminent safety which she knew was far from certain. 'The guys are all on it right now, they know what they're doing. We just have to sit tight and let them get on with their job. But it could be a real breakthrough, there's no doubt about that.'

'So why did you say we could be in danger?' Naomi suddenly remembered what Cathy had said to begin with and her brow furrowed as she stroked a silent and miserable-looking Emily's hair and kissed her softly on the cheek.

'Well…. it's possible the killer might decide to step up his efforts to get to you, Naomi. Or, having failed with his attempt on Katie, he may decide to move on…'

'To Emily?' Naomi saw where Cathy was leading and finished off her sentence for her. Her face had now taken on a deathly white complexion and she instinctively hugged Emily even closer to her, almost crushing the redhead in her open display of solidarity and protectiveness. 'Over my dead body, he will!' she shouted defiantly as if the killer might have been lurking around the corner of the room within earshot and needed to be told in no uncertain terms that he would be biting off more than he could chew if he thought he could get past Naomi and attack Emily without a fight to the death.

'He won't be able to get to you, I promise,' said Cathy who despite the seriousness of their situation, couldn't help smiling at Naomi's fiercely protective and terrifyingly convincing courage in the face of impending personal danger. She really believed that Naomi would lay down her life for Emily and for a brief few seconds she almost felt sorry for the killer if he ever had the misfortune to run into Naomi while attempting to hurt Emily. She imagined that facing a seething, implacable, fearless tall platinum blonde intent on protecting a small, delicate, frightened redhead could very well be a fate worse than death. The police need do no more than literally pick up the pieces.

Lara opened the front door, cautiously at first and then more fully and stood on the doorstep, eyeing up Cook and JJ in silence with what can only be described as a healthy mixture of suspicion and curiosity. JJ gave an uncertain smile and looked hesitantly across at Cook whose face remained expressionless under Lara's piercing gaze.

'Hi Lara,' JJ eventually broke the silence with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm and presented Cook theatrically with both hands like he was performing one of his magic tricks for her admiration and approval. 'This is my friend Cook.'

'So I can see, Lara replied. 'He looks like he's had an argument with a double-decker bus.'

'I ran into a bit of trouble with someone recently. You should what he looks like now. I won.' Cook returned Lara's stare with equanimity and calmly waited for her to decide if she was prepared to let this complete stranger with the face like a badly battered cage fighter into her house and give him shelter and succour for a few days. It was a big favour to ask, he accepted that but JJ had told him that Lara wasn't the kind of girl to be fazed by anything and would take it all in her stride.

'I suppose you'd better come in,' she said, stepping aside to let the two boys come through the doorway. Once inside, she disappeared to make some drinks, leaving Cook and JJ to mull over the success of their mission.

'See, I told you she'd agree,' said JJ in a low voice, anxious that Lara shouldn't hear him from the kitchen.

'She hasn't agreed to anything yet, Jaykins. She's just let us in for now. She might kick my arse out onto the street at any moment. Didn't you see the way she was looking at me?'

'She was just…..sizing you up, I guess. I warned her you'd been in the wars and needed a safe place to hole up for a short while. I said you were in a bit of trouble but nothing serious.'

Cook pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked across towards the kitchen where they could hear Lara making some coffee. 'She ain't gonna like it when she finds out you've lied to her, JJ.'

I could hardly tell her you've escaped from prison and you're on the run from the police, could I? She would never have agreed to take you in. Besides, how is she going to find out?'

'You don't know much about women yet, JJ. They always know when you're lying to them. They have a sixth sense, you know. You can't keep the truth from them for long, they have a way of finding out, believe me.'

JJ shot an anxious glance over towards Lara as she came back into the room drinks in hand and smiled in exaggerated fashion as she put the drinks on the table in front of the boys.

'What the hell are you grinning at, JJ?' she asked, sitting down next to him and staring at him so hard that he began to blush and attempt to stammer a convincing reply. 'You look nervous. Why is that? Is there something you're not telling me?'

'No!' squeaked JJ in an unnaturally high-pitched tone which made him feel even more self-conscious and which he immediately sought to correct by coughing nervously and lowering his voice as deep as it could go. 'Why should there be? I mean, what could I possibly be hiding from you, Lara? We don't have any secrets from each other, do we?'

'Well,_ I _don't but you look like you're absolutely terrified. That can only mean you're holding something back from me, JJ. I know you. You don't act like a gibbering idiot unless you've got a good reason and you're acting like one right now.'

'I told you women always know, Jay,' said Cook. 'It's always best to tell them the truth. It's much less painful that way.' He looked Lara right in the eyes without blinking and gave it to her straight. 'What JJ might have forgotten to mention to you is that I'm on the run from the police because I escaped from prison a few months ago where I was banged up for assault.'

'Yeah, he did forget to mention that,' Lara said, looking daggers at an embarrassed and sheepish JJ who was staring down at his mug of coffee, not daring to look up at her. 'You're memory's getting worse, JJ. We'll have to do something about that.'

'I've got a baby here, Cook. I'm not going to put his life at risk for anyone, not even a friend of JJ's.'

'There won't be any trouble, Lara, I promise you. I won't be here much anyway. I've got one or two things to do, a couple of people to see. I just need somewhere to kip for a few hours at night. You'll hardly know I'm here.'

Lara's tight-lipped expression hadn't changed since Cook had told her his recent life story. JJ had finally plucked up the courage to lift his head off the floor and look at her and his eyes were full of apology and remorse for having kept the truth from her.

'You should have told me, JJ. Why didn't you trust me?' Her harsh tone and accusing words were like a dagger through his heart and he wondered for a moment whether he might have lost her for good.

'I….I know. I'm really sorry. I guess I …..was afraid you'd say no if I told you the whole truth. I….I wanted to keep you out of any trouble, I suppose.'

'If I don't know what the trouble is, JJ, how can I decide if I want to keep out of it or not?'

JJ nodded silently and looked thoroughly miserable and dejected. Cook decided it was time for him to put things right between them and stood up. 'Look, Lara, the last thing I want to do is screw things up between you and JJ. I can see this isn't a good idea. You're right to be worried about your baby and having someone like me hiding here is too big a risk to take. Thanks for the coffee but I'd better be on my way.'

'Sit down, Cook. I haven't said you can't stay. I just don't like being lied to, okay?'

A sudden ring at the door interrupted the uneasy silence which had descended upon the three of them and Lara sidled over to the window and peeped round the curtain. She quickly snapped her head back and looked over at the two boys with concern.

'You two weren't followed here, were you?' she asked. Both boys looked at each other and shook their heads. 'Well, there's a guy standing on our doorstep who looks suspiciously like a copper to me, unless I'm much mistaken.'

'Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!' said JJ visibly panicking and looking for all the world like he was on the point of having one of his turns.'

'Get a grip, JJ. We don't need you to freak out now.' said Lara with calm authority as Cook looked around for the best place to hide. 'Cook, go into the bedroom and stay there until we've got rid of them. DON'T touch the baby or else I'll hand you over to the coppers myself, do you hear me?'

Cook nodded and disappeared into the adjoining bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Lara watched him go with a steely stare before turning to JJ. 'You'd better be right about him. I'll never forgive you if anything happens to Albert because of him.'

She took a deep breath, composed herself and ordered JJ to stay put, say nothing and calm the fuck down. She then slowly moved over to the door to find out what possible reason Bristol's finest could have for calling on her so early in the morning.

Even for ten o'clock in the morning the hospital reception was relatively busy with a number of people sitting in chairs waiting to be seen for all kinds of injuries and illnesses. Doctors and nurses were passing through at regular intervals, sometimes stopping at reception to exchange a few words with the staff behind the desk. In short, the scene was that of a typical morning in a typical busy city hospital. There was a gentle murmur of half-whispered conversations and the general hustle and bustle of a busy work environment. Everyone was either busy doing their job or preoccupied with their own pain, discomfort or inconvenience to pay much attention to a tall, not particularly striking young man wearing a baseball cap pulled well down enter the hospital and walk casually up to the reception desk. He was wearing a scarf which covered the lower part of his face as well as his neck to protect him from the cold, leaving very little of his face recognisable.

'Excuse me,' he said politely to the middle-aged woman with the kind face sitting behind the desk reading the contents of a piece of paper in front of her. 'I wonder if you could help me. I believe you took in a friend of mine last night who was involved in a car accident. Her name's Katie Fitch. I just want to know if she's alright. Please.'

The woman looked at him, still with her kind expression set in place, smiled but shook her head as she replied. 'I'm sorry, love but we can't give out any information like that. Only members of the family are allowed to be given news of a patient's progress.'

The guy put on his most convincing expression of a man in utter turmoil and distress and pleaded with the woman a second time. 'Please! I just want to find out if she's making any progress. I can't stay but I really want to know if the doctors think she might regain consciousness and pull through.'

'Like I said, love, it's strictly family only. You said she's a friend of yours, didn't you, not a relative?'

'I'm her ex-boyfriend. We split up a while ago. I heard the news about her accident from another friend this morning and I was passing by so I thought I would find out how she was doing. Please!'

'Well…..' the woman hesitated, seeing how sad and miserable the nice young lad looked and how genuine his concern seemed to be for his ex. 'I suppose I could get a message to one of the family to come out and see you and let you know how she's doing.'

The young lad shook his head. 'No, that wouldn't work. Her family never liked me much when we were together. They wouldn't give me the time of day if you told them I was here. Like I said, I don't want to disturb anyone, I've got to shoot off anyway. I would just really appreciate it if someone could put my mind at rest by telling me if she's making good progress or has regained consciousness yet. It would make me feel so much better.'

The woman was wavering in the face of his impassioned, heartfelt little speech and seemed to be in two minds what to do when she suddenly saw a nurse pass through the reception area and called out to her. The nurse approached the desk and the receptionist had a brief chat with her, pointing out the young lad with the sad expression standing in agitated fashion next to them. After a brief conversation the nurse left and the helpful receptionist turned towards the young man with a slightly glum expression.

'I'm afraid there isn't any great news so far. All I can tell you is that Miss Fitch is still unconscious but she is at least stable and the doctors are hopeful that she will regain consciousness soon provided there is no deterioration in her condition in the next twenty-four hours.'

The young guy forced a weak smile of gratitude and appreciation which he accompanied with a short 'Thank you so much,' before turning smartly on his heels and hurrying out of the front door and disappearing from view. 'What a nice young lad,' thought the receptionist as she watched him leave. 'Not many boys would show that much concern for an ex-girlfriend!'

JJ breathed a huge sigh of relief as he watched the detective leave the house and go on his way to continue his enquiries elsewhere. That had been a heart-stopping, panic-inducing ten minutes that he and Lara had just spent answering the constable's questions. At one stage he thought he was going to piss in his trousers, so nervous was he that Cook would make a noise in the adjoining bedroom and the detective would demand to know who else was in the flat. But possibly more by luck than judgement Cook had succeeded in keeping quiet the whole time and there had thankfully been no need after all to introduce Cook as JJ's long-lost cousin from abroad passing through on a whistle-stop tour of Europe or some other such nonsense that JJ knew he would have made up on the spot in a blind panic.

The news of Katie's car accident which the detective had informed him was the reason for his visit had also knocked JJ sideways and certainly contributed to his nervous tension and state of shock which he had exhibited all the way through the interview. The detective had asked them if they could remember any guys that Katie had been with the previous evening and Lara had recalled the gorgeous guy that Katie had set her sights on but which had ended in tears with a big row and a typical Katie-style send-off with her throwing her drink in his face. The constable had seemed particularly interested in that little detail but hadn't been able to contain his disappointment at the vague description that JJ and Lara managed to come up with of the boy concerned.

'You can come out now, Cook,' yelled Lara once the copper had vanished from sight and Cook opened the door and came back into the room. Lara rushed past him to check up on Albert. She had been worried that the unedifying sight of Cook's badly mangled features and stranger's face might have frightened the little chap and she was anxious to reassure him that the nasty man wouldn't be coming back again.

'Phew! That was a close one, Cook,' gasped a mightily relieved JJ who was still sweating profusely from the interrogation he and Lara had been subjected to.

'No sweat, Jay. You did fine. But what the fuck was that about Katie being knocked down by a car last night? That's unbelievable, man. What the fuck is going on, JJ?'

Some psycho is going around terrifying and attacking all our women. I can't have that, Jaykins. I'm going to have to track him down myself and take him out if the police can't do their job.'

'Oh yeah , that's a great idea, Cook,' said JJ. 'You've already got a criminal record for assault, you've escaped from prison and you're a wanted man. Now you want to add murder to the list.'

'Another murder's not going to make any difference to my record, Jaykins. Might as well get hung for a sheep as for a lamb, know what I mean?'

JJ stared open-mouthed and boggle-eyed at a solemn and sombre-looking Cook. 'What are you on about Cook? I don't understand this shit you're coming out with. You're scaring me. You've changed, you know. You're not the same guy I used to know. You're…..you're dangerous.'

'Things have happened, JJ that you know nothing about…..yet. Things that change the way a guy sees life, you know? Certain things happen and ….you can never be the same person ever again. You have to take a different path from everyone else and leave them all behind.'

'Is that what you're going to do now? Leave us all behind?'

'Not just yet but soon, yeah. But I've got unfinished business to deal with first. And we've got to find this sicko who's been terrifying Naoms and Emilio and putting Katie in hospital.'

'What the hell can we do, Cook? We're not the police. We haven't got the resources they have, for Christ's sake. We can't do a thing '

'I can, JJ. I can do things differently from them. You see, they have to stay within the rules. They have to act within the law themselves. I don't. I can do things my way. I don't have to worry about the same shit as them. This killer will be expecting the police to try to track him down using conventional police methods. He won't have bargained for someone like me hunting him down in my own sweet way.'

JJ shook his head in disbelief. He was starting to think that Cook was well and truly off his rocker. Wherever he'd been all this time, whatever he'd been doing, whoever he'd got mixed up with, he now fervently wished Cook has stayed there and not come back. He had a horrible feeling that this was all going to turn out badly for the lot of them, not just Cook. He desperately hoped he was wrong but he had a premonition of doom and gloom and he couldn't shake it out of his mind. He suddenly felt very, very afraid.

'So you admit you spent most of the evening with her, Mark?' Straw barked out his question at the young guy sitting opposite him and DS Blunt in the interview room.

'Yeah, course I did. So what?' replied the surly, antagonistic teenager with the bad attitude and with his arms folded to indicate his contempt for the police.

'You knew who she was, didn't you,' said Blunt taking up the reins. 'You'd had her in your sights for some time, hadn't you, just waiting for the right time to strike. She was always next on your list, wasn't she?'

'What? I don't know what the fuck you're on about! What list? I never even met the girl before last night!'

'Come on, Mark! Stop pissing us about!' Straw had decided it was time to go on the attack in an attempt t break this little shit down.' You waited until she left the club and than you pounced on her, didn't you? You went after her with a knife and you'd have killed her just like you did the other girls if she hadn't been knocked down by that car first!'

'You're off your head! I never saw her again after I left. I went off with my girlfriend. You can ask her if you don't believe me. What other girls?'

'The three girls who you've knifed to death in the last few weeks, Mark.'

'What! You think I'm that serial killer? You've got to be joking! I don't go round killing girls, for Christ's sake. You've got it all wrong. I'm not the guy you're looking for.'

'So tell us what happened last night.'

'Look, I went to the club with my girlfriend. I had a few drinks. Well….quite a lot of drinks actually. I got right off my head, if you must know. I started chatting up this girl called Katie. She seemed nice so we spent the rest of the evening together.'

'What was your girlfriend doing while you were chatting up other girls? Blunt looked at Mark with undisguised disgust and loathing. He was just the sort of selfish, arrogant, sex-mad young pisshead she couldn't stand and who she saw all too regularly in her line of work.

'I don't know. Probably chatting up some guys elsewhere. We're not chained to each other, you know. We give each other….space and freedom to do our own thing, you know.'

Straw snorted and shook his head. He didn't understand young kids and he never would. It wasn't like that in his day, he thought wistfully. If you went out with a girl, you had the decency to stay with her the whole evening. 'Go on,' he said brusquely.

'Well, when my girlfriend came over and said she wanted to go I said goodbye to Katie, you know, being polite like you do and she went into one. Completely lost it, started screaming and shouting, giving me a right old mouthful. I just turned to leave with Claire and she threw her drink over me. Claire was ready to have a scrap with her but I told her to leave it and we just got the hell out of there and went home. I couldn't see the point of hanging around for some pointless fight over some silly girl.'

'You really are a regular little charmer, aren't you, Mark. No wonder you have the girls eating out of the palm of your hand.'

'I do all right, yeah, But I DON'T kill them. I don't follow them out of clubs and knife them to death. You go and ask my girlfriend. She'll back up what I've told you. Or you can ask my mate Dave. He saw it all happen as well. He was pissing himself laughing at it all from what I remember.'

'Don't worry, Mark. We will ask them. I want names and addresses. Then you stay put while we check out your story. You're not going anywhere until it stacks up and if it doesn't, you're going to be here an awful long time answering a hell of a load more questions. We ain't finished with you yet, not by a long chalk.'

Straw and Blunt left the room and stood outside the door. 'What do you reckon, gov?' asked Blunt.

'I hate to admit it but I think he might be telling the truth. Much as I would love to put the little shit away just for being a complete arsehole. He was all cocky and lippy until the subject of the other killings came up and then he looked genuinely frightened and confused.'

'I'll go check his story out. But if it's not him who are we left with?'

'Find out if any of the other suspects were at the club last night. That lad Matthew Moore, for a start. Check up on all of Katie's ex boyfriends as well. Go over all the names we've got of the people at the club last night and see if there's _anyone_ with a connection to Naomi Campbell or both the Fitch girls that we don't already know about. I'm certain our killer was there last night to meet up with Katie and kill her. Get someone over to speak to Naomi. She might recognise some of the names.'

'Right, gov. How much time do you think we've got left before he tries to get to Naomi?'

'I don't know. Thank God we've got her in the safe house. Just make sure no-one has leaked the address to anyone outside of the investigation. If the killer's found out where the girls are, they could be in real danger.'

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

As you can no doubt sense, I am beginning the slow build up to the climax of the story. So many questions remain to be answered in the chapters ahead. Will Katie pull through with the killer's identity? Will the killer get to Naomi and Emily before the police find him? Or will Cook come to their rescue and prove to be their knight in shining armour, with or without a terrified JJ reluctantly in tow? Will Cook _ever_ find the right time to tell his friends about Freddie's death? All these questions and more will be answered in the coming chapters. Please keep the reviews coming! I'd love to hear how you would like to see the story end up for all the characters!


	22. Chapter 22

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Cathy tells Naomi and Emily that the police believe Katie may have been running away from the serial killer before she got run over. JJ takes Cook round to see Lara to ask her if she'll let Cook hide there for a few days. Cook announces that he intends to save the girls from the killer before he leaves Bristol for good. Straw and Blunt interview the guy who Katie spent most of the evening with in the club before she left.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: WATCHING THE DETECTIVES**

During the ten minutes or so that Emily had been on the phone to her parents Naomi had maintained a respectful distance and silence but hadn't taken her eyes off her girlfriend for a second. At the first sign of any bad news she was ready and waiting to rush over to her and comfort her, throw a consoling arm around her shoulders and pull her close to her in a loving hug to show how much she cared and how concerned she was for the whole family. Fortunately none of that was needed as Katie's condition hadn't got any worse. She was doing okay but was still unconscious and breathing solely with the help of a ventilator.

Despite not having received the news that she might have been dreading Emily closed her eyes when she rang off, pressed her lips tight together and her shoulders started twitching which Naomi recognised immediately was a sure sign that she was about to burst into tears. She went over to Emily, gathered her up in her arms and held her tightly while she sobbed uncontrollably on her shoulder for several minutes. As she held her and whispered calming words of reassurance and support, Naomi was ashamed to experience, not for the first time it had to be admitted, the tiniest hint of jealousy that Emily could feel such heart-breaking anguish and pain about someone other than herself.

As soon as she acknowledged the feeling she immediately tried to dispel it from her mind, so unfair and unjustified as she knew it was. This was a time to think about Emily's feelings, not her own, she reprimanded herself. Her vulnerability was not the issue right now. She needed to be strong for Emily's sake and not allow herself to be weakened by half-baked doubts and fears about her own importance to Emily. They sat huddled up to each other until Emily's tears slowly subsided and she felt ready to talk again without losing all sense of self-control.

'I'm sorry about that, Naoms. I just feel so helpless and guilty stuck here while Mum and Dad and James are over at the hospital. They've been there all night without a break. They must be exhausted.'

'Hey, come on, Ems. It's not your fault you're not with them. The cops insisted you came back, you didn't ask to leave. They know you would have stayed with them if you could have done.'

'I know but it doesn't make me feel any better about it, though. And what if Katie wakes up and finds out I'm not there? What is she going to think then? That I don't love her any more?'

Emily seemed on the brink of tears again but the distinctive sound of Naomi's mobile phone brought the onset of another emotional outburst to a merciful halt. The blonde got up and went over to the table where she had left it and picked it up, glancing anxiously back at a miserable Emily before checking out who had sent her a message. It was another anonymous text and Naomi's chest tightened and her heart started thumping fast as she picked up the message and read it.

'**u can run but u cant hide! u dont get rid of me that easy. be seeing u!.'**

'Jesus Christ!' Naomi whispered a bit too loudly as Emily looked across at her and instinctively knew something was up. 'What is it?' she asked, the fear palpable in her voice which came out like a croak. 'Oh God, it's not another picture, is it?'

Cathy was obviously well attuned by now to the sound of Naomi's ringtone wherever she happened to be in the house for she appeared out of nowhere in the room and looked at Naomi who nodded silently and held the phone out to her. The police woman read the message, pursed her lips and handed the phone back to Naomi.

'Well, let's look on the bright side. One, he hasn't sent you a picture of another dead girl and two, he's still texting you rather than posting you a letter you which hopefully means he doesn't know where you are.'

'Yeah, I suppose that really ought to cheer us up' said Naomi with a valiant attempt at gallows humour ultimately betrayed by the troubled expression on her face.

'I'll phone in and report it,' said Cathy with a wry smile, hiding her admiration for the brave face Naomi was putting on. As soon as she had left the room Naomi went over to Emily who had tears welling up in her eyes again and sat down next to her. 'Come on Fitch. They're not going to break our spirit, do you hear? We can take all this shit, and more, provided we stick together, right?'

Emily nodded and forced out an unconvincing smile with a tremendous effort of will-power even though she wondered if she would ever again feel like smiling for real.

DC Sweeney had been acting very peculiarly that morning, even for him. All the girls had picked up on it and had exchanged a few brief words amongst themselves, speculating on what the hell could be making him act so strangely. He was perpetually like a cat on a hot tin roof, jumping up out of his seat whenever he thought he heard someone approach the house, then sitting back down again with a frown on his face when the footsteps carried on past. It was as if he was expecting someone to call but when he was questioned about it he went all secretive and mysterious on them, claiming he was just doing his job looking out for anyone suspicious who might be loitering outside.

'Well, whatever it is that's got your knickers in a twist, could you do it less dramatically?' said Emily. 'You're making us feel even more nervous than we already are.'

'Sorry,' said Sweeney as he sat back down with a sigh of frustration for the umpteenth time that morning and continued to look moodily through the living room window.

'Jesus! I am SO fucking bored here,' groaned Naomi, throwing down her travel book about India which she had been reading on and off since they moved in. She wished she had had the foresight to grab a few more books when she and Emily had been told to pack their bags and relocate to a police safe house. 'I'm getting utterly sick of this book about India. I've read nothing else for a week. I'm rapidly going right off the place, I can tell you. Why the fuck didn't I bring some other stuff as well?'

'We should have brought our own music too,' said Emily, nodding in sympathy. They had played the same handful of CD's that were in the house when they arrived at least twice already during their brief stay there and were desperate for some stuff of their own. 'Cathy!' Emily shouted. 'Can't we go back to our house just for ten minutes to pick up some more of our own things? Naoms and I are going completely insane in here without our own books and music and DVD's.'

'The stuff they've got here is all absolute shit!' Naomi pulled a face which was a passable impression of a bulldog chewing a wasp to indicate her utter contempt for the musical and film tastes of the people responsible for equipping the house with a respectable home entertainments package to meet the needs of your average teenage girl.

Cathy popped her head around the door and grimaced apologetically at the girls who, after a quick conspiratorial glance at each other, had both put on their saddest, most doe-eyed expression of misery and despair which they hoped would melt even the stoniest and most implacable of hearts.

'No can do, girls, I'm sorry. We're under strict orders to keep you under lock and key here. No more adventure trips into the big bad world outside for you, I'm afraid. It's heads down until further notice.'

Emily groaned and Naomi let out an almighty scream of frustration which made even the heavily distracted Sweeney jump and turn round in shock. 'You know what? I reckon I could save this psycho the trouble of tracking me down and killing me. I might just do the job myself. It actually **is** possible to die of boredom, you do realise that, don't you?'

'Tell you what I'll do,' said Cathy, unable to avoid chuckling at Naomi's understandable bout of self-pity, borne out of frustration. 'Just for you two, if you give me a list of what you want brought over, I'll arrange for someone to go over to your place and pick them up and bring them over here. How's that?'

Suddenly the two girls were all smiles. Emily got up and went over to Cathy to give her an impromptu hug which Naomi thought was a bit unnecessary and over the top. This spontaneous act of gratitude on Emily's part, although made in all innocence and without any underlying motive, made Naomi go all silent for the next few minutes as she tortured herself about its possible significance. Her confused thoughts were rudely interrupted by DC Sweeney letting out a small cry of triumph, leaping out of his chair and rushing out of the room towards the front door.

Naomi and Emily exchanged puzzled looks. They heard the door open followed by the sound of voices and waited expectantly for Sweeney to return. Instead they heard the door close and then raised voices in the hall, this time clearly those of Sweeney and Cathy, which quickly developed into a full-blown argument that soon drew the girls out of the living room.

'What the fuck were you thinking of, you idiot?' Cathy was shouting at Sweeney as Naomi and Emily arrived on the scene.

'Calm down! It's no big deal. I don't know what you're getting so uptight about,' replied a flustered and somewhat guilty-looking Sweeney who was clutching a brown paper parcel tightly to his chest.'

'What's going on?' asked an intrigued Naomi, seeing the two detectives glaring at each other, only a few inches apart. 'You two having a lovers tiff?'

Cathy turned towards the girls and angrily almost spat out an explanation for their shouting match. 'This clown here has just taken delivery of a parcel for himself –completely against orders.'

'I told you there's nothing to worry about. It's just a few things my Mum said she'd send on to me here. I told her I didn't know when I would be back home next so…..she wrapped them up and posted them.'

'You gave her the address of this house, you dickhead! Straw and Blunt will go absolutely fucking ape if they ever find out! You'll be back in uniform before you can blink!'

'Oh, for Christ's sake, Cathy. My Mum would _never _pass on the details of this place to anyone else. She knows how important it is to keep the address a secret, she's not a fool.'

'Unlike you, of course. What's in the parcel that's so important, then? What the hell is it you couldn't live without for just a few weeks? It had better be bloody worth it!'

Sweeney looked embarrassed and mumbled a vague, almost incoherent answer. 'Nothing….just….. some things….nothing you'd be interested in…'

'Open it up and show me.' Cathy demanded, her eyes still blazing with anger and her voice shaking with the emotion of her outburst. Sweeney shook his head and made to go up the stairs but Cathy swiftly moved to block his way. 'Not until you tell me what was so important that it was worth risking blowing this whole operation and jeopardising your job. I'm dying to know. Come on!'

'Look, it's just a few ….magazines, that's all,' Sweeney said in a low voice, unable to look Cathy in the face.

Naomi was unable to suppress a laugh. 'Don't tell me, some porno mags?'

'Back copies of The Beano? Or maybe Airfix Model Magazine?' suggested Emily with a wry, mischievous smile. The girls couldn't help seeing the funny side of the situation despite the obvious seriousness of Sweeney's error of judgement.

'No! Christ, what sort of a bloke do you think I am?'

'You do _not _want us to answer that, trust me,' said Naomi, straining with every muscle and sinew in her jaws to keep a straight face.

Cathy had finally run out of patience and snatched the parcel out of Sweeney's hand before he could react and put up a fight. She ripped open the brown paper and stood stock still, looking aghast and with disbelieving eyes at a bundle of football magazines and newspaper sports articles, together with a message on a scrap of paper, presumably from Sweeney's Mum, which said 'Hope these will kick the boredom into touch!'

Cathy swore violently and threw the bundle of magazines onto the floor. 'Do you know what, Sweeney? That sleepy little village that you come from must _really _be missing its idiot!' She stormed off into the kitchen, quite beside herself with rage, in order to calm down and stop herself from landing one on the hapless and hopeless DC. Naomi and Emily retreated back to the living room where they collapsed in fits of laughter. After they had all but split their sides Naomi looked over at Emily and smirked. 'Of course, Ems, you realise this gives us another real hold over Sweeney again, don't you, just like the last time?'

'Oh, don't be so cruel, Naoms Let's just leave the poor bastard alone for once. He's going to suffer big time from Cathy as it is.'

'But he might have put our lives at risk doing what he did. He deserves to be taught another lesson, especially if he wants to keep his job. I'll think of something he can do for us in return for us keeping schtum about this latest cock-up. Just give me time!

Straw and Blunt had drawn a blank trying to break Mark's version of events at the club the previous evening. He appeared to have an alibi as supplied by his girlfriend who had confirmed that he was with her from the moment they left a furious Katie in the club until the next morning. Mark's mate Dave also backed up Mark's story and neither he nor the girlfriend seemed to have a good reason to lie about it. Mark seemed to be in the clear, much to Blunt's disappointment as she had taken an instant dislike to the guy and would have relished the chance to have another go at him.

'Matthew Moore's still in the frame, though, gov. He can't account for his movements properly around the time Katie was knocked down. He said he was out drinking with a couple of mates but they both say they left him drinking on his own in the pub.'

'But none of the bar staff can remember what time he left and he swears blind he was back home by twelve and didn't go out again. His mother confirms his story but I'm sure she would lie through her teeth to protect him. If he had slipped out again later on she probably wouldn't have known. She said she went to bed half an hour after he got back.'

'He's the one guy with a genuine reason to hate Naomi Campbell and want revenge after what happened to his sister. We can't ignore that fact, gov. We haven't been able to turn up anyone else so far with a real grudge against Naomi – not enough to want to put her through all this, anyway.'

'That's the real stumbling block in this case, Blunt, isn't it? I mean, if this guy was just going around killing young girls because…..well, let's say because he has a problem relating to women, he can't form a proper relationship with any girl, they make fun of him, they laugh at his feeble attempts to impress them and chat them up, so he loses it and kills them in a fit of rage in order to mask his insecurities and feel superior and more powerful than them, well let's face it, we've come across a few serial killers like that in our time.'

Blunt nodded. She and Straw had been involved in a couple of cases just like that in the last five years or so. 'But sending pictures of his victims after killing them to Naomi along with threatening messages that she's to blame for all this and he'll get to her eventually, well that takes it to another dimension, doesn't it? I mean, it looks like the killings are merely a means to an end, rather than an end in themselves.'

'Yes, his beef is with Naomi, not these girls. He's killing them to put the fear of God into her. So he must _really_ hate her guts, mustn't he? But why? What has Naomi done that has so screwed this guy up that he would want to subject her to such a relentless campaign of terror?'

'Search me, gov. I know she's a real feisty, fiery, opinionated so and so but I can't begin to imagine what she could have done to any guy to have provoked him into doing something like this.'

'Hang on a second,' said Straw, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He sensed that a complete review of their whole strategy was needed at this stage of their enquiries. 'Let's wind back a bit. Maybe we've been making too many assumptions. For a start, we don't know for sure the killer's a man, do we? After all, none of the girls killed were raped or sexually assaulted. There were no traces of semen on the victims or at any of the crime scenes, right?'

DS Blunt shook her head. 'No, gov. But what about the driver's statement about the guy he thought he saw when Katie Fitch was knocked down?'

'He couldn't say for certain it was a man, he just thought it was. But it was dark, everything happened so quickly, he admitted that himself. He could have been mistaken. It _might _have been a woman. Whoever it was, the driver said he or she was wearing a cap pulled well down and a jacket or coat pulled right up. He probably couldn't have seen much of the person's face at all, in fact.'

'So, what about this guy we pulled out of the river? This…'Blunt consulted her notes briefly…...'Dr Foster. Where does he fit into all this?'

Straw puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his tired, throbbing eyes. 'I don't know. I'm not entirely sure he fits into it at all. I think he might have been killed by someone else entirely. What about this James Cook character? He's got form for knocking people about.'

Blunt shrugged her shoulders and gave a heavy sigh. 'Yeah, I know. He seems like a nasty piece of work but Naomi thinks the idea of him killing these girls is totally ridiculous. Says he sees himself as a bit of a Romeo but he's not nasty like that – not with women anyway.'

'Even so, I want him found and soon. I'm getting pissed off with him leading us a merry dance. We should never have let him get away when we caught him at this JJ character's house. Mind you, I'm not that sure about _him_ either. Step up the search for James Cook, will you. See if you can borrow a couple of extra men from somewhere. I'm not ruling him out just because Miss Cocksure Campbell vouches for him.'

'I'm going over to see her now with a list of all the names of the people we know were at the club last night. Maybe she just might recognise one or two of them and give us some sort of lead.'

Cook had been pumping JJ for all the details about Naomi and Emily's predicament for at least an hour. He knew he had to get up to speed as quickly as possible if he was to make any sort of impact on the investigation. He wanted to try to track down the killer, of course. That appealed to his sense of machismo, his self-image of a bold and fearless protector of the fairer sex. But he was a pragmatist, above all else, despite his bluff and bluster which so impressed and yet terrified JJ in equal measure. He understood that first of all he had to find out where the girls were being hidden if he was to protect them from the evil plans and schemes of this psychotic killer.

He had already rejected the simple idea of contacting Naomi and asking her where she and Emily were living now. He guessed that after his last text message to Naomi all her calls would be closely vetted and scrutinised by her police protection team so that easy option simply wasn't a runner.

'Do you know the names of the coppers who are protecting Naoms and Emilio, JJ?

'Um…. well, yes, sort of,' replied JJ with a marked degree of reluctance and hesitation. He thought he could see where this was leading and he wasn't sure he was all that keen on it.

'Spit it out Jaykins. Us superheroes haven't got all day, you know. We've got places to go, lives to save, killers to catch. Time waits for no man and all that shit, so spill.'

JJ looked across at Lara for support but she merely stared back at him and said 'Don't drag me into this, JJ. He's _your_ friend. I'm staying well out of it. I'm sure you know what you're doing,' in a tone of voice which suggested she doubted very much that he had the faintest idea what carnage, what irreversible consequences he could be setting in motion by answering all of Cook's searching questions.

JJ was feeling the pressure of Cook's persistent gaze on him and sensed his anxiety levels rising as his palms grew sweatier by the second and his face started twitching involuntarily. 'Well…..' he gulped before burning his bridges irrevocably, 'one of them I know for a fact is that DC who interviewed us at college about Sophia's death.'

'Not Sweeney!' said Cook, his face almost breaking into something approaching a smile for the first time in weeks. 'They've given that waste of space the job of protecting the girls? Fuck me! He couldn't catch a cold, never mind a clever bastard like this psycho.'

'The other detective is some woman called Cathy but that's all I know. I'd never seen her before. She's ….quite smart, I think. That's what the girls said.'

'She'd need to be. She's probably having to nursemaid Sweeney half the time. Still, at least that gives me something to go on.'

'How's that going to help?' JJ couldn't see for the life of him how Cook was going to track the girls down that easily.

'JJ, it'll be a piece of piss. He's probably gone and told his Mum all about the job he's on. She's bound to be the sort of doting mother who loves to hear all about what her precious, brave boy is doing at work. I expect he's told her on the quiet where they're staying. All I need do is find an excuse to have a chat with her and wangle the address out of her. It shouldn't be too difficult. She can't be that bright.'

Cook's confidence and self-assurance was breathtaking and JJ couldn't help but admire the positive spin he put on every situation he found himself in, no matter where it might lead. 'How are you going to find out where she lives?'

'I'll call a couple of cons I got to know when I was inside. They're out now and they owe me a few favours. It looks like it's time to call them in.'

The afternoon had been another in a seemingly endless procession of terminal boredom moments for Naomi and Emily, punctuated only by the unexpected visit of DS Blunt. She had sat down with both girls and gone through her list of names of all those people who had been identified as having been in the night club on the previous evening but as Blunt had half expected it had been to no avail. The only names the girls recognised had been those of Effy, JJ and Lara plus a small handful of other ex-Roundview College students, mainly girls, who all had unshakeable alibis for the whole evening up until well past the time when Katie had been supposedly attacked.

Blunt had done her best to cheer the girls up by telling them that the investigation was making some progress, however painfully slow, and had encouraged them to keep their spirits up and think positive thoughts but she could see that her words fell on stony ground. Emily was understandably worried sick about her twin and Naomi was in turn worried sick about Emily being worried about Katie. It had the feel and the atmosphere of a depressingly vicious circle from which neither of them seemed to know how to escape.

Whilst she was stretched out on the sofa cuddling up close to an extremely subdued Emily, Naomi tried to pass the time by dreaming up a variety of mischievous schemes to make DC Sweeney pay for his earlier crass cock-up. But the uncomfortable mood in the house between Sweeney and Cathy plus Emily's visible distress blunted her normally fertile imagination and wicked sense of humour. She had amused herself mildly though from time to time by whistling the theme tune to The Apprentice very loudly whenever Sweeney entered the room and capping it off with a flourish by pointing a finger at him Alan Sugar-style and announcing 'You're Fired!' Eventually Sweeney grew tired of being mocked so mercilessly in that fashion and disappeared upstairs with his tail between his legs and a couple of his football magazines stuffed under his arm to seek sanctuary in his bedroom from where he hadn't emerged since.

Both girls were on the verge of drifting off to sleep while Cathy was busy doing some cleaning in the kitchen when out of the blue Naomi's phone rang. The shrill ringtone instantly made them open their eyes with a start and each could feel their pulse quicken and their heart begin to thump with dread. What now? Cathy came scurrying out of the kitchen and into the living room as Naomi got up off the sofa and reached for her mobile on the table. With an anxious glance up at Cathy who responded with a cursory nod, Naomi took the call which to no great surprise was another anonymous text message with an accompanying picture this time for good measure.

Naomi took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst and opened up the picture attachment. But what she saw for once didn't frighten her in the least but it sure as hell baffled the shit out of her. .Not a picture of a girl this time, dead or otherwise. Instead it was a photograph of a house. Not a very good photo, mind you - it was a bit out of focus and the light couldn't have been the best when it was taken but nonetheless it was unmistakeably a very unscary photograph of the front of a house which looked vaguely familiar to Naomi without being immediately obvious. She raised her eyebrows in bewilderment but moved on to read the text message which soon made everything all too terrifyingly clear.

'**I like your new home. It's certainly a step up from your last place. BUT IS IT REALLY SAFE?**'

'Fucking hell! He knows we're here!' Naomi cried and her hand was noticeably shaking as she handed the phone over to an extremely worried-looking Cathy who took just a few seconds to read the message and look at the photo before making an instant decision.

'We need to get out of here. Now! Don't bother with your clothes or anything else. I'll get Sweeney. Stay away from the windows!'

Less than five minutes later all four of them were in the car and well away from the not-so-safe house, heading for God knows where. Cathy was on her mobile talking to DI Straw while Sweeney was just driving with no particular sense of direction. When she had finished updating Straw on the latest turn of events and rung off, she turned round to the others and broke the bad news to them.

'They haven't got a place for us to go to at the moment. It'll take a couple of days to fix something up. We'll have to think of something else in the meantime.'

There was a brief period of silence as the four of them were either too tired and scared to be capable of saying anything meaningful or were deep in thought, metaphorically scratching their heads for a new safe haven, an alternative refuge from this annoyingly persistent madman who seemed to be permanently locked on their trail. He clearly wasn't going to give up chasing them down until he'd exhausted them all into meek submission.

'Well, there's only one place I know where we can get in tonight without any problem,' piped up Emily from the back seat.

'Where?' cried Naomi and Cathy in unison, each as puzzled as the other .Even Sweeney took his eyes off the road for a fraction of a second to throw a curious glance in his mirror at the redhead.

Emily dug deep into her handbag which, despite Cathy's strict instructions to leave everything behind in the house, she had paused to snatch from the hall on the way out. Seconds later she produced a set of keys which Naomi guessed right were the keys to the front door of her Mum and Dad's rented flat where the rest of the Fitch family now lived, if not exactly in abject poverty, then at least in markedly less luxury and style compared to their previous residence..

'Over at Mum and Dad's,' she said, prompting Naomi to close her eyes, throw her head back and groan quietly to herself in utter despair and disbelief. The way she felt at that precise moment, she wasn't at all sure if she wouldn't have preferred the mercifully quick stabbing that the killer probably had in mind for her rather than the slow, drip drip torture of living with Jenna and the rest of the Fitch Crazy Gang again.


	23. Chapter 23

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: The killer sends Naomi another warning message to her mobile that he will track them down. Cathy catches Sweeney taking delivery of a parcel from his mother and goes ballistic at him. Straw and Blunt re-evaluate their previous assumptions about the killer's identity. Cook resolves to pump Sweeney's Mum for information on the safe house. The killer sends a photo to Naomi's mobile which proves he knows where they are hiding. The girls, Sweeney & Cathy take off in the car, heading for the only place Emily can think of – her Mum and Dad's!

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: HOME IS WHERE THE HURT IS**

When Naomi came to with a start in the early hours of the following morning it was with a vague sense that some indeterminate noise must have woken her up from her uneasy sleep. For a few seconds she felt completely disorientated as with bleary eyes she looked around the unfamiliar room and then back at the equally unfamiliar bed in which she was lying next to Emily. She felt relieved to see the redhead breathing gently and rhythmically just a few inches away from her, with her cute little nose peeping out from under the duvet and her rich, dark red locks falling casually across her face.

Gradually memories of where she was and why came flooding back to her as she lay still, listening to the comforting sound of Emily sleeping and feeling the warmth of her girlfriend's sensuous body next to hers. They had taken refuge in the Fitch family's rented semi where they had expected to spend the night alone with Cathy and Sweeney. However Rob and James had turned up out of the blue barely an hour after they had begun to settle in, having left Jenna to keep vigil at Katie's bedside while the boys returned home to try to catch up on some sleep. She remembered being mightily relieved that Jenna had remained at the hospital. Another huge row with the mother-in-law from hell had been the last thing she had wanted to face up to at the end of a long and traumatic day.

As she lay perfectly still in the bed churning things over in her befuddles mind, she had the weirdest feeling that there was another presence close by but when she sat up and had a good look round in four all corners of the room she could see nothing to substantiate her fears. She lay back down and turned to observe Emily who had stirred ever so slightly following Naomi's movements and was breathing a little more loudly and erratically. Although Naomi was loath to wake Emily up and disturb her beauty sleep (which, in Naomi's eyes, she scarcely needed), she was desperate to take advantage of the few rare opportunities they got to be on their own. They hadn't felt comfortable very often to be as they would normally have been without any prying eyes and ears close at hand.

'Are you awake, Ems?' she whispered and waited anxiously for a response..

'No,' was the muffled reply from somewhere under the duvet, forcing a smile out of Naomi who leaned in towards the redhead and kissed the top of her head. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. It's just that we don't get much time on our own nowadays and it seems such a waste to spend it sleeping, that's all.'

'Are you thinking of pestering me for sex again?' Emily popped her head out above the duvet to look dreamily at Naomi through half-closed eyes and with the hint of a smirk on the corner of her alluringly full lips.

'Excuse me! When have I ever pestered you for sex?' cried Naomi, perhaps a touch too loudly and with rather more righteous indignation than was really justified. Once again for a fraction of a second she thought she could hear a strange noise nearby but Emily's deliberately tongue in cheek remark caused her to put her faint suspicions to one side and concentrate on launching a stern rebuttal of Emily's outrageous accusation.

'Oh, aren't you going to, then?' said Emily in hushed tones, sounding extremely disappointed. Naomi realised that Emily had been gently pulling her leg and took swift retribution, launching a sustained tickling onslaught on the helpless redhead who reacted with predictable screams and squeals as she tried to fight off with flailing arms the bigger and more powerfully built girl. They soon ended up locked in each other's arms where the tickling gave way to an almost suffocating embrace and a long drawn out kiss of real intensity and passion, as if they had been working up to it for many a long week. They tore at each other with a desperate frenzy, tongues darting in and out of mouths, hands caressing every inch of each other's bodies and legs wrapped tightly around each other as they slithered and wriggled around on the bed, with only an intermittent moan or groan breaking their concentration.

Suddenly, in the midst of all this passion and joy unconfined, Naomi's ears pricked up as she heard yet another noise close by. This time there could be no mistake. On the previous occasions she could have dismissed her suspicions as the overactive, over sensitised, vivid imaginations of an exhausted, emotionally overwrought mind. But even in the throes of passion, with all her energies and senses being channelled into succumbing to the pleasures of Emily's gorgeous young body, Naomi could still recognise beyond the shadow of a doubt the sound of another human being stifling a sneeze at very close quarters.

'What the fuck…...' Naomi pulled away from Emily's moist, hungry lips with the greatest of reluctance and sat up in bed, listening intently, her lips set firm and her eyes darting around the bedroom exploring every nook and cranny they could see.

'There's someone in the room, Ems,' she insisted as she threw back the duvet and got out of bed, her anger and shock clearly visible on her face.

'What!' cried Emily, looking around with terrified eyes as wide as footballs as if half expecting the killer to jump out of the wardrobe brandishing a knife and run towards the pair of them. 'Are you sure?'

'I definitely heard someone stifle a sneeze, Ems. I'm sure of it.' She may have been frightened deep down inside but that was nothing compared to the anger she was feeling that someone had dared to eavesdrop on their private, much prized moments of passion. She prowled around the room, only dressed in a T-shirt and knickers and threw open all the wardrobes and had a good look inside before closing them again. While Emily sat on the bed, speechless and holding her breath, Naomi stood in the middle of the room listening and looking round before finally coming to the conclusion that there could be only one possible source of the tell-tale stifled sneeze.

She looked across at Emily, put a finger to her lips and tiptoed over to the bed. Bending down to the floor she threw back the duvet, peered fearlessly under the bed and then dragged out roughly by his feet with a cry of triumph, intermingled with unrestrained fury, an embarrassed and fearful-looking James Fitch.

'You revolting little pervert" Naomi shouted at the young lad, who could see the blazing anger in her eyes and was terrified of what she might do to him as a punishment.. Yet at the same time he was unable to take his eyes of her fabulously sexy body which was mesmerising him despite the very real danger that if he kept staring at the outline of her magnificent breasts much longer he would almost certainly end up with the mother of all stiffies which he would be unable to conceal. 'Stop staring at my tits!' added Naomi, noticing James's eyes fixed on her chest.

'I'm sorry, Naomi,' said James sheepishly. 'I can't help it, they're just so….'

'Get the fuck out of here, James!' screamed Emily, more in relief that it hadn't turned out to be anyone more dangerous than a sexually-obsessed pubescent brother with an insatiable appetite for the female form 'If I catch you spying on us ever again, I'll tell Mum and Dad and I'll make sure they send you away to an all boys boarding school. You'll never see another girl until you're eighteen and you'll get shagged up the arse every night in your bed by the head boy.'

For a girl-obsessed boy of twelve, that terrifying threat to the imminent development of his sexual curiosity put the fear of God into him more than any other punishment that his parents might have come up with. He sprinted out of the bedroom as fast as his little legs could carry him, grateful that he had managed to escape before his erection had announced itself to their inevitable disgust and horror. At the same time though he couldn't help drooling over the breathtaking sight, albeit fleeting, he had managed to enjoy of Naomi standing inches away from him wearing next to nothing, displaying her pert, perfectly formed boobs and her lusciously long, slim legs. He was almost ready to die happy; however for that to be fully achieved he acknowledged he would still have to find a way of getting a good look at her muff.

James' unexpected and embarrassing interruption had taken some of the ardour and breathless intensity out of the girls' feverish desire for each other. They both wanted to carry on from where they had left off but the fear that James might return or at least settle for listening outside their door proved too much of a psychological barrier for them to overcome. They decided with deep regret that they would have to wait for a more relaxed and private opportunity to satisfy their lust for each other. They contented themselves with cuddling up close to each other in bed, breathing in the other's intoxicating scent and revelling in the sensations of their warm, trembling bodies pressed up against each other. Eventually they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, each dreaming of the burning flames of passion and desire that would have engulfed them had that little shit James not poured cold water on them.

They were still fast asleep, their bodies entwined around each other like two adjoining pieces of a jigsaw, when the bedroom door opened and in strode Jenna to shake them out of their idyllic dreamy love nest with a roar that would have woken up the dead.

'What the hell is going on here! Who said the pair of you could sleep in our bed!'

Naomi was the first to open her eyes at the sound of Mount Vesuvius erupting and upon seeing an incandescent Jenna Fitch standing at the foot of the bed, eyes almost popping out of their sockets and mouth gaping wide open like the Bristol Channel, she immediately closed her eyes again, thinking it could only be a terrible dream, indeed her worst nightmare. She reopened them a few seconds later to find that it was far from a dream but a terrible reality. Next to her Emily was similarly jolted out of her sweet dreams by the familiar sound of her mother going off on one at her expense and she sat up with a expression of dismay, tinged with frustration that they had been caught out by her Mum in the kind of situation that she always been dreading having to confront her with – the stark reality of her and Naomi's physical relationship.

'Hi Mum,' said Emily. 'How's Katie? Has she woken up yet?' She sat up and looked at her mother with as defiant an expression as she could manage.

'There's no change. She's still unconscious but the doctor says she's stable and making slow progress.' Jenna knew Emily's concerns about her twin were genuine but she couldn't help thinking her daughter was using Katie's situation as a smokescreen to hide behind and she had no intention of letting her get away with that. Jenna was livid to find the two girls in bed together and, what was worse in her eyes, in her and Rob's bed for good measure.

'Will you get out of there now! What gives you the right to use our bed for your revolting goings on?'

'Dad said we could take your bed, if you must know. He said he would sleep in Katie's room while we could take yours. And for your information, nothing's been going on.'

'Well, he had no right to say that without consulting me first.'

'I guess he probably didn't want to start an argument with you while Katie's lying in hospital fighting for her life.' Emily was refusing to back down in front of her mother who she could see was hugely embarrassed at finding her precious, misguided daughter in bed with her 'girlfriend'.

'Don't you dare use Katie as an excuse to justify what's going on here!'

'Why not? You are.'

The two women stared each other down, neither preparing to budge an inch on the issue, each determined to occupy the moral high ground. Naomi, who had been silent throughout while the two Fitches battled it out for family supremacy, decided that in the interests of world peace and harmony it would be diplomatically sensible for her to retreat. Mumbling that she needed to go to the bathroom, she got out of bed and hurried out of the room without even looking at Jenna despite sensing the old battleaxe was glaring at her as she left.

'How could you, Emily?' Jenna shook her head slowly from side to side and appeared close to tears. 'At a time like this. How could you do this to me?'

'How could I do what? Sleep in the same bed as Naomi, you mean? Like we have every single night since God knows when? When are you going to wake up and realise our love for each other is for real and isn't going to go away just to please you, Mum? Katie accepted us ages ago. Dad's found a way to deal with it. For fuck's sake, even James in his own sick perverted way has come to accept it. Why is it only you that has a problem with me and Naomi? Why are you the only one in the family that can't be happy for me? I thought all you ever wanted was for all of us to find true happiness with someone who really loved us. Well, I've found that, Mum, with Naomi and nothing you can say or do will ever change that.'

Jenna blinked back the tears as Emily finished her impromptu, impassioned plea from the heart, stepped out of bed, casually threw on a large baggy jumper and left the room to a deafening silence.

'Jesus! Do you reckon they're always at each others throats like this?' Sweeney whispered as he turned to look at Cathy as the sound of shouting and raised voices from upstairs filtered down to the kitchen where the two coppers were sitting drinking an early morning coffee..

'I don't know,' replied Cathy in a low voice as she glanced anxiously over at Naomi and Emily who were looking thoroughly miserable huddled up against one another at the foot of the stairs. 'I get the feeling Emily's Mum isn't ecstatic about the idea of Naomi as a potential daughter-in-law.'

'Who can blame her? I can't say I'd be too keen either. She's a right mouthy little cow. I don't know what Emily sees in her, even if they are both lesbians.'

'I'm sure she'll be devastated to hear that, Sweeney. Well, I like her. She's got attitude and she's got balls which is more than can be said for some people around here.'

'What do you mean by that?' Sweeney frowned at Cathy who ignored him and got up to go and talk to the girls.

'Are you two alright?' she asked with a sympathetic grimace. They looked at her glumly, both visibly flinching and cringing as the row between Rob and Jenna upstairs promised to reach epic proportions.

'Oh yeah, we're great. It's really hilarious to hear your parents having a right fucking ding dong row about you in front of everyone else. Life couldn't be better.' Naomi was biting her lip anxiously as Emily laid bare her embarrassment and anguish to Cathy who nodded to show she understood how Emily was feeling.

'I take it your Mum hasn't exactly welcomed Naomi into the bosom of her family with open arms.'

'What on earth makes you think that?' said Naomi drily. 'Jenna absolutely adores me. Isn't it obvious from the way she can barely bring herself to even look at me, never mind talk to me or from the way she refers to me as 'that girl' when she's taking with other people? I reckon she's made up a doll that looks like me and she secretly sticks pins into it when no-one's looking.'

Cathy couldn't help laughing at the image conjured up by Naomi and her infectious cackle set the two girls off into giggles as well. 'If it's any consolation, it took my Mum and Dad years to accept the fact that I was gay. But eventually they learned to live with it.'

'How long?' asked Naomi and Emily in unison.

'Oh, only about five years. You two have got years of agony and frustration to look forward to.'

'Terrific!' groaned Naomi, as her shoulders slumped under the weight of the enticing prospect painted by Cathy and she leaned her head in towards Emily's neck as the argument continued to rage upstairs.

The figure in the dark jacket and baseball cap leaned a little further over the edge of the flat roof and peered once more through his state of the art binoculars, adjusting the focus a smidgeon until the clarity of his vision was to his satisfaction. He trained his sights on the front of the building and allowed himself a contented smile as the middle-aged couple who had just come out of the front door came back into view. The guy was tall, dark and not bad-looking for his age, he supposed, the woman shorter, with long, flowing dark hair and a decent figure for a woman he guessed to be in her late thirties. Ordinarily he would have described her as being quite attractive for her age except that at that precise moment she had a face that looked like thunder. A face that told of a woman beside herself with rage and spitting feathers which somewhat detracted from her natural beauty and good looks.

The tall guy was clearly the object of her indignation as our observer watched her gesticulate wildly at him with flailing arms and he could almost see the veins on her face stand out as her fury built up to a crescendo. He wondered for a brief moment if the woman was going to land one on the poor sod who looked thoroughly miserable and utterly helpless to stem the tide of her withering verbal assault. After this unequal verbal jousting had seemingly run its course - or perhaps, he conjectured, because she had finally run out of insults and recriminations to throw in his direction - the woman turned smartly on her heels, got into the battered old car that was parked outside the building and drove off at great speed leaving the browbeaten, emotionally scarred husband to figuratively go back to his corner and be attended to by his coach.

That house must be racked with tension and fear, the guy thought and that was going to play right into his hands, just the way he had planned it. It wouldn't be long before the various members of this disparate group of warring individuals were at each others throats, both literally and metaphorically and that would be his moment to strike – when their attentions were diverted, when their focus and concentration had been momentarily lost, when they were at their weakest and most vulnerable. All he had to do was sit tight and wait for things to really kick off. Then he would be able to sneak under the radar and make his move. Sure, there would be an element of risk to what he was planning to do. There always was in such situations and yet it was that very uncertainty, that breathtaking thrill of the chase, the fact of not knowing for certain if he could pull it off which filled him with such excitement and anticipation. He could barely wait for zero hour to arrive. But wait he must – the time was not yet right and to rush in too soon could jeopardise the whole operation. Patience, he told himself, patience is the key to success here. Don't ruin it by getting over eager. Let it happen naturally, don't try and force it. Just let human nature take its course.

When Rob came back inside the house he found Naomi alone in the kitchen having breakfast, Cathy and Sweeney having disappeared upstairs to phone in to base to report on their first night in their new base and find out the latest developments. He came and sat down opposite her and let out a heavy sigh which Naomi took to mean he hadn't succeeded in persuading Jenna to join the rest of the human race and be part of the tolerant society.

'No luck?' she enquired unnecessarily as she tucked into her bowl of cereal.

'What do you think?' he snorted with just the hint of a grin. 'Don't worry, love, she'll come round in the end. She always does. She's just really tense and upset at the moment, like we all are, what with our Katie lying in hospital, you know. You just need to give her time, that's all.'

'What, about five years, d'you think?' said Naomi smiling with a heavy heart.

'Something like that, yeah' he nodded and sat back in his chair, pondering the ceiling which must have seemed like it was caving in on him with every passing minute of the day.

'I can't work out how you two got together at all,' said Naomi. 'You're like chalk and cheese. Jenna's so fiery and emotional and so utterly convinced she knows all the answers to everything while you're so laid back, so easy-going, so….'

'Useless and feeble?' interrupted Rob, anticipating Naomi's description of the stereo typical put-upon, downtrodden, henpecked husband.'

'No. I wasn't going to say that. I was going to say kind and gentle. You're just a big softy, really, aren't you, Rob? You take everyone at face value, don't you? You don't judge people or put them into nice, convenient little boxes you can tick. You take people as you find them. That's really nice.'

'It's makes life so much easier. Why bother creating a whole load of problems where there aren't any in the first place? Life's difficult enough as it is without stirring up a whole load of shite for no good reason?'

Naomi returned Rob's broad Scouse grin with a smile of her own. 'Anything for a quiet life, is that it?'

'Don't knock it, love. When you get to our age you'll realise you ain't got the energy to argue and fight any more. Life's too precious to waste it screaming and shouting at each other over stuff that just doesn't matter.'

'Like Emily being gay and me and her being in love with each other?'

Rob looked at Naomi for a while in silent contemplation of her very direct and leading question. It was pretty much the first serious conversation he had ever had with the beautiful tall blonde about her relationship with his little girl. The funny thing was, he had never felt remotely uncomfortable being around the two girls even when they were gazing into each other's eyes with total adoration and smouldering sexual desire. For some reason he had never had a problem with it, once he had got over the shock of Emily's coming out announcement, which admittedly he had initially dismissed as a hilarious joke on his daughter's part until she had put him firmly straight, as it were, on the matter.

'It's the best thing about being alive, Naomi – loving someone and being loved by them back. It doesn't matter a flying fuck who it is so long as it's for real.'

'Well, me and Ems are for real. You know that, don't you? Mind you, I wouldn't be saying that in front of Jenna if I were you. You might get thrown out of the house with the two of us!' Rob threw back his head and laughed. His eyes twinkled mischievously at Naomi as he got up and went to put the kettle on for a cup of tea.

'It might be safer for the three of us out there, you know, rather than being stuck in here with Jenna and those detectives. Jesus Christ! I'll never live it down with my mates and my family back home. A Scouser actually living in the same house as the bizzies. I tell you, Naomi, I couldn't have cared less if Emily had brought home a boyfriend or a girlfriend but I'd have drawn the friggin' line at her bringing home someone from the police! I do have some standards, you know.'

'They're not at the safe house any more, JJ. They had to get the hell out of the place in a hurry last night, so Sweeney's Mum just told me. She doesn't know where they went to.'

JJ stared at Cook in disbelief. 'How did you manage to get that out of her?'

'By turning on the old charm, Jaykins. By pandering to her pride in her precious little boy, as she called him. It wasn't difficult. She was only too keen to tell me all about her brave little soldier. Only, the trail has gone cold, me old son. We need to find them. That's where you come in.'

'Me? What can I do, Cook? Hey, just leave me out of your mad schemes. I don't want a psychotic serial killer coming after me! Or Lara. Jesus Christ!'

'Relax, Gayjay. I'm not asking you to do anything dangerous. Just give Emily a call and try to find out where they are, that's all.'

JJ looked at Cook dubiously. He'd been down that road with Cook many times before and had usually regretted getting mixed up in his madcap ideas and plans. He seemed to remember always getting hurt or embarrassed or humiliated one way or another.

Cook picked up JJ's phone which was lying on the table and clicked on Emily's name in his address book whilst JJ continued to protest helplessly. He passed the mobile over to his reluctant partner-in-crime when he heard the dialling tone. 'Go on , you big wimp,' he said with an encouraging nod of the head. 'Ask her if they're okay and where they are now.'

Emily's voice came on the line and startled JJ into an uneasy dialogue that had none of the comfortable, natural qualities of their normal conversations. Cook leaned forward until his head was practically pressed up against JJ's and listened intently to their conversation, gesturing from to time to tell JJ to keep going or whispering a question for JJ to ask Emily. After a most trying and confusing couple of minutes JJ rang off leaving Cook to ponder over the information that JJ had Subtly managed to worm out of Emily.

'So, what do you make of all that, Cook?' asked a baffled and bewildered JJ.' She wouldn't tell us where exactly they were so we're none the wiser than before.'

'Speak for yourself, JJ. I think I can guess where they are. It's obvious. She said the last she had heard Katie was doing okay but her Mum had just left for the hospital so she would know more later on in the afternoon.'

'So?' JJ looked blankly at Cook for an explanation. Clearly he was missing the point, he thought.

'Well, how would she know her Mum's just gone back to the hospital unless she'd been with her beforehand? It's obvious where they are, Jaykins. They're holed up at her Mum and Dad's.'

JJ whistled in admiration. 'Of course! That's the only place where they could have gone to at such short notice where she knew they could get in.'

'Well done, JJ. Right, I'm going straight over there to check up on them and see if I can find this maniac. Are you sure you don't want to come along? You can be my sidekick, just like the good old days, if you really want.'

'Shit a brick! No thanks, Cook. I don't want to get involved if it's going to out rough.. I'm way too young to die. I haven't had sex with Lara anywhere near enough times yet. There's still so much more I want to do with my life, like learn to play the piano, beat Lara at pool and appear on Mastermind. Keep me out of it, Cook, I beg you!


	24. Chapter 24

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Naomi and Emily awake early to find that James has been hiding under their bed and eavesdropping on them. They send him packing with a massive flea in his ear. Jenna arrives back from the hospital to find the girls still asleep together in her and Rob's bed and completely flips her lid, leading to a huge row between her and Emily. A mystery man watches over the Fitch home through binoculars from a neighbouring rooftop. Cook and JJ work out that Naomi and Emily are holed up at the Fitch family home and Cook sets off to keep a close eye on them.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: A RUSH OF BLOOD TO THE HEAD**

The afternoon had passed by so much more calmly once Jenna had left the house and gone back to the hospital. Naomi could finally relax and be more like her normal self, knowing that she couldn't feel the piercing steely eyes of Jenna trained on her back the whole time. It was bad enough knowing that there was some stranger out there loose in the city who had evil designs on her well-being and safety without the added pressure of living in the same house as someone who equally would have been delighted to see the back of her permanently.

Rob had coerced James, not without considerable protest and reluctance, into helping him give the place a right good tidy up, thinking that even the smallest of token gestures might put Jenna in a better mood when she returned home. Emily sat talking idly with Naomi and Cathy, in between making copious cups of tea and coffee and eating everything in the house, a natural reaction to living under so much tension and stress, Emily supposed. The overall atmosphere was one of relative tranquillity of serenity, punctuated only by Emily's occasional calls to her Mum to find out if there was any news about Katie of which there wasn't.

'Don't you even _think_ about touching any of our stuff, you little shit,' said Emily to James when he was told by his father to hoover and dust upstairs in the bedrooms. 'If I find even one thing looks out of place I'll kick you all the way down the stairs.'

'And I'll kick you all the way back up them,' added Naomi with a delightfully fake smile at the young lad. In truth James would willingly have taken a right good kicking from Naomi if she would agree to flash him her tits just once while she was in the house. The boy was smitten and was beginning to feel resentful towards his sister that she was turning Naomi against him so much when he so wanted her to like him.

'I won't! I promise, Naomi'

'Don't forget to clean under the bed. God knows what revolting state you left it in after this morning.'

James turned bright red after his sister's barbed reference to his pervy eavesdropping activities earlier on in the day and fled from the room to cover up his embarrassment. Cathy raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Emily's cryptic comment and had a good laugh when the girls told her what they had caught James doing. 'You've got to hand it to him, he's a persistent little bugger, isn't he?' she remarked, with almost a touch of admiration in her voice. 'You do realise he's got a massive crush on you, Naomi, don't you? Surely you've noticed how he follows you everywhere you go?'

Naomi's mouth flew open, her jaw dropped a couple of feet and she turned pale and sickly at Cathy's sharp observation. 'Oh, PLEASE, tell me you're joking. That's all I need right now, an over-sexed, under-age stalker.'

Emily couldn't help bursting into a fit of giggles. 'Except this one's stalking you from inside the house!' she pointed out to Cathy who was almost doubled up with laughter while Naomi continued to look mortified.

'Stop it, the pair of you! You're making me feel ill just thinking about it.' Suddenly the door bell rang which brought an abrupt end to the girls' hysteria and made Cathy get up and go to the window to see who it was whilst calling urgently for DC Sweeney. After a few seconds Cathy cursed softly and turned towards the girls anxiously. 'I think it's that boy you know, the brother of the girl who killed herself!'

'Matthew Moore?' Emily was shocked into momentary silence and looked across nervously at Naomi who got up and joined Cathy at the window and peeped out, taking care to hang well back from the curtains. She nodded and confirmed Cathy's suspicions. 'Yep, it's him alright. What the fuck is he doing here? How the hell can he have found out we're here?'

DC Sweeney appeared and Cathy quickly brought him up to speed. Sweeney went out into the hallway, one hand firmly in his pocket where he kept his gun, and cautiously opened the door a fraction. Cathy and the girls remained in the living room, Emily and Naomi lying down flat on the floor at Cathy's insistence while the detective listened intently to the conversation from behind the living room door, one hand likewise clutching the gun she kept in her inside jacket pocket. After a while the front door closed and Sweeney came back into the room.

'He says he just wants to speak to the girls for a minute or two. He doesn't mind us staying in the room with him while he speaks to them. He says he hasn't come to cause any trouble or create a scene, he just needs to find out what the hell's going on.'

'I don't like the sound of that,' said Cathy to the girls. 'He's one of our prime suspects, after all. He hasn't got a rock solid alibi for any of the killings and he's got good reason to hate you, Naomi.'

Naomi and Emily exchanged uncertain glances. Neither of them particularly wanted to talk to him again but would he give up that easily if the police told him to piss off? They didn't want the added worry of not knowing if he would come back and try again. It was Naomi who broke the silence.

'Look, maybe we should let him come in and say what he has to say and get it over with. I mean, he's hardly going to do anything with you two in the room with us, is he?

'He's not an idiot,' added Emily in support. 'Besides, I really can't see him being the killer. Why would he ring the front door bell like that if it was him? It doesn't make any sense.'

Cathy and Sweeney had a quick private exchange of whispers and agreed to let Matthew in for a couple of minutes whereupon Sweeney went back to open the door. Cathy stood just inside the living room and didn't take her eyes off the young lad from the moment he stepped inside the house. Within a few seconds Rob came down the stairs to join the party, having heard the front door open and close from upstairs and wondered what the hell was going on.. If Matthew did harbour any genuinely malevolent intentions towards either of the girls he was going to have to wipe out an impressive army of protectors first before he could get anywhere near them.

Cook was already beginning to feel very cold and miserable and sorry for himself long before the rain started to fall. He zipped up his coat as far as it would go and pulled the hood over his head to try to keep as dry as possible as the rain slanted in across his face. This observation malarkey wasn't as glamorous and exciting as it was cracked up to be in all the TV detective programmes he had watched over the years. In those programmes the coppers keeping watch on a suspect or on the comings and goings of a particular house always seemed to be doing so from the comfort and warmth of the house opposite. Furthermore they usually had the luxury of being waited on hand and foot by the occupier of the house who often turned out to be some voluptuous, highly sexed widow who brought them hot cups of tea and plenty of cakes or chocolate biscuits to sustain them through the night, with the suggestion that if they ever needed any company, she would be all on her own in the room next door.

Cook's vigil was turning out to be a far cry from that enticing image. He had been hanging around on the street in the cold for a fair few hours now, pretending to be waiting for a bus at the bus stop whenever anyone had turned up, and yet nothing untoward had happened in all that time. True, some guy had turned up at the front door and rung the bell a little while back which had naturally grabbed his attention but he had eventually been allowed in to the house and had only stayed five minutes before departing without any sign that he was leaving a bloodbath behind him. Besides, surely no killer, however deranged and psychotic, would be so stupid or so fearless as to gain entry to the house by simply ringing the doorbell and asking to be admitted so as he could kill all the occupants.

He wished he had taken the time to think up some kind of coherent plan before making his way over to the Fitch's address but then careful and thoughtful consideration and weighing up of all the options available to him had never been one of his strengths. He was a doer rather than a thinker. Act first, think later had always been his watchword and motto. He went through life living on his instinct and it had served him reasonably well until now. But he couldn't help wondering if he was really achieving anything standing secretly on guard like this, a safe distance away from the heart of things, just waiting for something to happen so that he could spring into action. Surely he needed to be more proactive? But he was very much an outsider in this case. What could he do to get more involved without giving himself away to the cops and taking himself out of the picture completely? For the first time in his life he felt impotent, figuratively speaking of course.

Perhaps he should try to imagine he was the killer. What would he do in his shoes? How would he achieve his objective of getting his evil filthy hands on Naomikins when she was surrounded by an entire house of people, including two armed detectives and a family of Fitches some of whom would lay down their life to protect her and keep her safe and alive? It wasn't going to be an easy task unless the guy was utterly reckless and was thinking of shooting his way in to the house like some kind of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in reverse. But he hadn't used a gun so far – he had been very much your 'hands-on', or rather 'knife-in' sort of murderer till now. It was unlikely he would change his M.O. at this crucial late stage. Surely he was bound to stick to what he was familiar and comfortable with, which meant that he would have to get past all the other people in the house and get right up close to Naomi

How the hell was he going to do that? Cook's brain was starting to hurt with all this thinking but he knew he had to persevere with the cold, clinical, rational approach if he was going to be of any use to the girls. Charging in gung-ho after it was too late was not the way to attain folklore, legendary status. That much was clear to him.

Half an hour after Matthew had left them Naomi, Emily and Cathy were still talking about his unexpected visit.

'I'm still suspicious of him, I have to say,' said Cathy as she sat at the kitchen table opposite Naomi and Rob whilst Emily was trying to work out what she was going to rustle up for everyone for dinner. James was up in his bedroom quietly composing a poem about Naomi which he was intending to give to her later in the evening in an attempt to get back in her good books and declare his undying love for her. Had she known what he was secretly doing she would probably have snatched the pencil off him and rammed it up his arse but for now he was as happy as Larry reeling off verse after verse of nauseatingly soppy and romantic drivel to the object of his adolescent affections.

'Why?' Emily asked as she browsed through one of her mother's many cookbooks, searching for inspiration. 'I believed him when he said he was just worried about what affect all the police visits and questions were having on his mother.'

'He's still a suspect and he has no real alibi for any of the murders,' Cathy reminded them all. 'Only his mother can vouch for his whereabouts and I don't think we can put much faith in her. She would lie her head off to protect him, I'm damn certain.'

'I can't see him as the guy you're looking for,' chipped in Rob enthusiastically. 'I mean, he looks so weedy, I wouldn't bet on him having the balls to kill a fly. Besides, he's too young, surely? Isn't your killer supposed to have lured these girls to their death by chatting them up in a club or something? He couldn't manage to pull a muscle, let alone a bird. The girls I knew in Liverpool when I was your age would have eaten him alive!'

'I agree with Emily,' said Naomi. 'I can't see it being him. I mean, you'd have to have real balls to calmly ring the bell, come into the house and talk to us in front of you all like he did if he was really our killer. What would have been his motive for calling round?'

'He could have been checking the place out,' Cathy pointed out as she took a sip from her mug of coffee. 'He might have wanted to know what the lay out of the place was, who exactly was in here, stuff like that. Maybe he's planning to try to break in later on and needed to do a quick recce beforehand.'

'Well, I still think you're wrong, Cathy' insisted Emily letting out a sigh.

'Well, even if I am, I'm not taking any chances. I don't like how easy it was for this Matthew to trace us here. I've spoken to the gov and he agrees we should get out of here as soon as we can. He says they'll have another safe house ready for us tomorrow morning.'

'Oh, Cathy!' Both the girls voiced their spontaneous disappointment at the same time. They didn't want another upheaval so soon after moving in. Even Naomi felt happier living in a place that had a proper feel of a lived-in family home and relaxed atmosphere rather than the soulless, anaemic surroundings of a nondescript, charmless police safe house.

'Oh, come on, love,' said Rob, taking his cue from Emily's sad face to plead their case with Cathy.' Is that really necessary? I mean, the girls will be much safer here with all of us looking out for them, won't they? No-one's going to get past all of us, are they? He'd be mad to even try it! Besides, he probably hasn't got a clue where we are.'

'We'll be much safer staying put here than being outside on the move yet again, Cathy. Surely you can see that.' Naomi had cast aside her objections about staying for any length of time in the same four walls as Jenna and was arguing the case strongly for staying put with the Fitches. She agreed with Rob – somehow she felt much safer where they were now compared to before. Having the not insubstantial weight of the Fitch family close by was hugely comforting and quite amusing at times, especially when Jenna wasn't around.

Before Cathy could open her mouth to quash all their objections again Rob's mobile rung and he reached for it quickly, assuming correctly it must be Jenna calling. A short conversation followed during which his eyes unexpectedly lit up and his face broke in to a massive grin, much to Emily's surprise as she watched him closely and guessed from his reaction that it might be good news. After he had finished speaking he quickly confirmed Emily's wildest hopes. 'Katie's woken up! She's conscious again, Ems! They think she's going to pull through!'

Emily immediately burst into tears of unrestrained joy and relief and she ran over to her Dad to be instantly swallowed up in a huge Fitch bear hug of epic intensity that even moved Cathy close to tears. Naomi didn't come near to keeping a dry eye and she quickly joined Emily and Rob in a group embrace, all three of them smiling broadly through the tears of happiness and gratitude.

'Come on, your Mum wants us to all go straight over there and see her,' said Rob. 'I'll go and tell James the brilliant news. You get yourself ready to leave.'

'I've got instructions to keep both you girls here,' said Cathy, not wanting to put a dampener on things and cut short the celebrations but mindful of the orders she had received from Straw and Blunt.

'Oh, come on, Cathy!' Rob objected. 'Her sister's just regained consciousness and you want her to stay at home? You can't be serious! Please let her come with us. It'll only be for an hour or so. The doctors won't want us to stay too long with her. They're bound to say she needs to rest and recover. Please!'

'Let me phone the governor. He'll want to know about Katie regaining consciousness anyway. He's bound to want to try to speak to her himself about her attack.'

A few minutes later Rob, James and Emily were sitting in Rob's battered old car and driving away from their house on route to the hospital, Straw having reluctantly given in to the family's pleas to allow Emily to come with them to see a conscious Katie

'We're off to join them there,' the DI said to Cathy. 'We need to see if she can talk and give us a description of the man who tried to attack her. This could be our big break. We've got to move fast just in case she has a relapse. You two stay close to Miss Campbell, do you hear? Don't tell _anyone_ about Katie Fitch waking up. We don't want our guy to find out.'

Naomi had said an emotional and tearful goodbye to Emily even though she knew she would probably be back inside the hour. She instructed her girlfriend to give her love to Katie and to say she was thinking of her and looking forward to trading insults and digs with her again like the old times very soon. Emily had hugged her so hard she almost squeezed all the breath out of Naomi's body- she hadn't wanted to leave Naomi behind for even a minute but she was so desperate to be at her sister's bedside with the rest of the family and Naomi, to her credit, recognised and understood her dilemma and insisted that Emily go off with the others

. 'I'll be absolutely fine, don't be silly. You go off and see Katie. She needs you all with her at a time like this. I'll see you soon. Phone me and let me know how she is, okay?' Naomi had even relented enough to give James a hug when the family took their leave and the lovesick young boy was so beside himself with excitement that, besides nearly creaming his pants, he whispered in her ear that he had a present for her which he would give her when they came back from the hospital, leaving Naomi feeling more than a little queasy and nervous about the sort of surprise he would have in store for her. She had a horrible feeling she wasn't going to like it that much.

'I'm just popping outside for a fag, okay. I'll only be a five minutes,' said DC Sweeney to Naomi. The blonde was doing some totally unnecessary cleaning in the kitchen to give herself something to do and calm her nerves. She was waiting impatiently for Emily to phone her from the hospital with news that Katie had been sitting up in bed chatting away nineteen to the dozen and asking why that miserable cow Naomi couldn't be bothered to pay her a visit.

'No, you fucking well aren't, you dozy twat! The last time you did that, Mandy crept into the house behind your back! Can't you fucking wait until they all get back?'

'Relax, woman! I'm going to lock the back door behind me – see?' He jangled the back door key in front of his face. 'I've been gasping for a ciggie for hours.'

'But…..it's pissing down out there,' Naomi pointed out, accepting with a certain reluctance that Sweeney had actually seemed to have thought things through this time but still keen to dissuade him from his risky intentions.

'I'll put my hood up and stand under the roof of the garden shed to keep dry. That way I can face the back door all the time. No-one will be able to get in the house without me seeing them try, okay? I've got my gun on me, remember?'

Naomi grunted and turned her back on him to resume her cleaning. He was an arsehole and no mistake but she could see he wasn't to be swayed and at least this time he was going to be keeping his eyes firmly glued on the back door. He duly put his hood up, unlocked the door, passed through it into the now torrential rain outside, carefully but swiftly locked the door behind him and scurried across the small lawn and took shelter under the roof of the shed which jutted out just enough to afford him some shelter from the rain. After a minute or so Naomi went over to the window and washed her hands under the tap. From where she was standing she could just about see the outline of Sweeney through the sheeting rain. He waved at her and she smiled sweetly and waved one finger back at him before moving away from the window and carrying on with her tidying up.

Your standard cigarette packet carries a health warning that says 'Smoking is bad for you and others around you.' Never was a truer word said than on this fateful evening. Sweeney lit up a fag as soon as he got under the roof of the shed and he stood there inhaling deeply on his cigarette and puffing the smoke out into the cold evening air, watching the rings of smoke swirl around his head and disappear up and away far above him. His eyes were fixed on the back door as he had promised and he was concentrating on getting through his fag as quickly as possible, partly because the weather was really foul outside and he was getting fairly soaked even standing where he was despite the supposed protection of the roof and partly because he wanted to get back inside before Cathy found out what he was doing. She gave him a hard time about everything anyway so he reckoned he might as well get hung for a sheep as for a lamb and have his smoke but ideally he would have preferred for her not to find out.

With all these thoughts going through his mind and what with the deafening noise made by the rain beating down on the shed, he simply never heard the shed door open ever so slowly and gently behind him. One second he was enjoying himself having a nice peaceful cigarette on his own, the next he was being jerked backwards in excruciating agony by a length of string or wire which had been thrown around his neck from behind and pulled with enormous force. He could hardly breathe and his whole face began to hurt like it had never hurt before in his life. He tried desperately, frantically to pull the string or whatever it was away from his neck but it was hopeless. Whoever was slowly and inexorably throttling the life out of him from behind knew what they were doing.

He tried to cry out for help but not the hint of a sound could be heard coming from his mouth, only the odd helpless gasp and choke which wouldn't have disturbed the insects crawling around on the ground. He tried to kick backwards with his legs but the mystery assailant was obviously standing well back, thus not affording Sweeney the chance to bring him down to the ground where he might at least have had a fighting chance of wrestling with him and saving his life. In any case within a few seconds of the strangulation starting the assailant had managed to drag Sweeney backwards into the shed and kick the door shut so that they were both out of sight to anyone who might happen to glance out of the kitchen window, always assuming they could make out anything clearly at all from that far away through the pouring rain and the pitch black evening light.. Sweeney wriggled and squirmed for all he was worth, flailing his arms around in a last ditch attempt to land some kind of blow on his assailant, as you would expect a trained police constable on protection detail to do but it wasn't long before he had to admit defeat.

The element of surprise had caught him out and he was completely overpowered by an opponent who had the wood on him in terms of their starting positions and the ready availability of their respective weapons. Sweeney's gun was still in his pocket but was of no use to him as his killer was making absolutely sure he couldn't reach anywhere near it. Barely a minute had passed before the light went out of Sweeney's eyes, his increasingly convulsive breathing stopped, his body became as floppy and helpless as a rag doll and his assailant gently let him fall to the ground in an untidy heap, all life extinguished. As he stood briefly over Sweeney, looking down at the lifeless body, he knew exactly what his next step was and he went ahead with it without any hesitation, knowing that time was of the essence.

'Cathy! Katie's opened her eyes. She isn't talking yet but she seems to be able to recognise people!'

'That's brilliant news, Naomi' cried an overjoyed Cathy from the bathroom where she was having a quick wash. 'I'm so pleased for you both. I'll be down in a minute or two. You can tell me all about it.'

Naomi almost skipped down the stairs in sheer unadulterated bliss. Emily would be beside herself with relief and joy, she thought and she couldn't wait to see her again so she could share in her happiness properly. At that moment of genuinely unselfish elation Naomi even felt kindly disposed towards that dickhead Sweeney and wanted to tell him how Katie was doing. Surely even he couldn't fail to be pleased with the wonderful news about Katie's impending recovery and she rushed into the kitchen and saw that no-one was there. Jesus"! How many fags was he smoking out there? She went over to the kitchen window and looked out but there was no sign of him standing in front of the shed.

Maybe he's already come in and is warming himself up in front of the fire in the living room, she wondered and turned round. 'Oh, there you are,' she said. 'Katie's opened her eyes now. They're hoping she might be able to say a few words later on. Isn't that fantastic news?'

She suddenly stopped gushing like an imbecile and stared hard at the police constable who was standing just inches away from her, the hood of his coat still pulled right up hiding the best part of his face. 'Why haven't you taken your coat off, Sweeney? You're dripping water all over the floor, you clown.'

That was the last thing Naomi remembered. She never saw the blow that rained down on her in a flash and rendered her immediately unconscious as she slumped to the floor. She was out like a light and the man she had initially assumed was Sweeney wasted no time in picking her up, putting her over his shoulder like a sack of coal and carrying her through the back door, out into the rain-soaked garden and around the side of the house.

**AUTHOR'S FOOTNOTE**

Well, as you can see, it's all going to really kick off now as we head towards what I hope will be a dramatic, edge of the seat, suspense-filled conclusion. What do you hope will happen in the last few chapters? I'd love to hear from loads of you about how you would like to see the story finish. Your reviews, comments and suggestions are always most appreciated and even more so now at this critical stage of the story!


	25. Chapter 25

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Matthew Moore pays a visit on the girls and begs them to believe he had nothing to do with the killings and the threats against Naomi. Emily gets a call from her Mum to tell her that Katie has regained consciousness. The whole Fitch family rush off to the hospital to be with Katie. Sweeney is surprised in front of the garden shed by a mystery assailant and strangled to death. The killer enters the house disguised as Sweeney, knocks Naomi unconscious and carries her off in a van.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: MANHUNTER**

Maybe it was because he was feeling tired, cold and hungry and had lost a fraction of the intense concentration he had been at pains to maintain for the first few hours of his vigil. Or perhaps the sideways sleeting rain, lashing into his face and forcing him to turn his head away on occasions, was partly to blame for him not having spotted it until it was almost too late. Whatever the reason, Cook nearly missed altogether seeing some guy emerge from the side of the house and bundle what looked like a human body into the back of a van before closing the back doors and quickly getting into the driver's seat. He shook his head violently from side to side to get rid of the rain that was pouring down his face, rubbed his eyes and stared at the front of the Fitch house some thirty yards away on the diagonal. No, he wasn't mistaken. Someone was definitely driving away from the house in a big hurry after having thrown something or someone into the back of his van!

His heart almost missed several beats as his imagination started running wild at the various permutations available to explain what he had just witnessed, the worst of them and his best guess from what he had been able to make out from that distance away being that this was the killer and the thing he had just chucked into the back of the van was the dead (or nearly dead?) body of Naomi. H e didn't exactly have much time to react. He had maybe a few seconds to size up the situation, weigh up his options and make a decision what might prove to be the difference between life and death for Naomi or whoever it was lying, he guessed or rather hoped, unconscious in the back of the van.

In the time it took the van to surge forward out of the drive and swing left out onto the road in the other direction from him, Cook had worked out that running after it on foot in a desperate attempt to catch up with it and somehow make it stop would be utterly pointless and doomed to failure. He needed to pursue the van in his own four wheels. Sadly he had no fast car conveniently parked nearby into which he could leap, through the open window Dukes of Hazard-style if necessary, start up the engine and take off in hot pursuit like they do in all good cops and robbers car chases. This particular unorthodox urban hero on this of all occasions had arrived for his private stake-out mission on foot. He hadn't even thought to nick himself a car on the way over as he most likely would have done in earlier times.

Clearly he needed to get hold of some transport immediately and whilst the police car parked outside the Fitch house was an obvious candidate, he didn't have the time, or the inclination if truth be told, to go in the house and ask for or hunt for the keys to it. Neither did he have enough time to break into the car and start it up in his own self-taught inimitable style. He needed some wheels in the next few seconds and as luck would have it, as all these jumbled thoughts came flooding into his mind like someone's life flashing before them as they lay on the point of death, a car suddenly came bombing along the road from over his shoulder as he stood motionless at the side of the road watching the van pull away from him.

He didn't hesitate to question the rights and wrongs of what he was about to do, he just went ahead and did it and to hell with the consequences – they would take care of themselves later. He ran out into the middle of the road, turned to face the oncoming car fearlessly and stood waving his arms frantically like some kind of demented traffic cop on speed. Much to his relief the driver chose to slam on the brakes and come to a screeching halt only a few inches or so in front of him, instead of ploughing right into him, sending him flying and then calmly carrying on its merry way. Cook knew this wasn't the time or the place for social niceties, for politely and respectfully asking the driver if he wouldn't mind awfully letting a complete hothead of a stranger borrow his car in order to chase a psychotic killer and teenage girl abductor God knows how far across town.

Seeing the van already tearing away up the road out of the corner of his eye, Cook ran round to the driver's side and motioned to the driver to wind his window down so he could talk to him. The driver, despite being nervous and more than a little angry at having been forced to pull off such a dramatic manoeuvre, could see that something was afoot and wound his window down promptly to give Cook a right mouthful of abuse. Cook seized his window of opportunity to grab hold of the poor unfortunate guy by the throat thereby temporarily immobilising him, before pushing down the button, opening the door and unceremoniously dragging the driver out of the car. Before he could think of defending himself or putting up any sort of a protest, Cook punched him to the ground and ignored the poor fellow's understandable whimpers and squeals of pain and shock as he got into the car. He slammed the door shut and pressed his foot hard down on the accelerator. The car lurched forward, initially rather uncertainly before settling into a steady pace and screeching off ahead as Cook strained his eyes in desperation to pick out the van which was by now already a considerable distance away.

When Cathy came downstairs to find both Naomi and Sweeney mysteriously absent without trace, her suspicions were immediately aroused and she reached for the handgun in her inside pocket. Her heart began to thump furiously as she went cautiously into each room in turn, gun held out steadily at arm's length in front of her, to confirm that the pair of them were nowhere to be seen. Where the fuck were they, she thought? She'd only been talking to Naomi upstairs a minute or two ago, for Christ sake! And where the hell was Sweeney? She didn't like this one little bit.

A horrible premonition of gloom and doom began to envelop her as she completed her sweep of the downstairs rooms. Not a sign of life to be found in any of them. Maybe they had both gone outside for a smoke, even in this foul and disgusting weather. She opened the back door which she noticed wasn't locked and went outside, gun still held out menacingly by her outstretched arms and called their names. It had now become pitch black and she had real difficulty seeing anything clearly at first until her eyes had got used to the rain-soaked darkness that surrounded her. Still there was no sign of them and she went round to the front of the house hoping against hope that they might both be sheltering on the door step, having a fag together. No such luck.

She was seriously worried now and she hurried back inside to shout their names up the stairs, in case they had both gone back up before she had finished in the bathroom but there was no reply. It definitely seemed like they had disappeared without any good reason and she was forced to conclude that something had gone seriously wrong. She phoned in to DS Blunt and updated the sergeant on the situation. She could sense the grave concern in her governor's voice as she quizzed Cathy on the details of her alarming report. 'Check everywhere, now!' said Blunt. 'I'll tell Straw what's happened. Let's make absolutely certain that something serious has gone wrong first before we start overreacting. After all, Naomi may have taken off for some reason or other and Sweeney might have gone after her to bring her back.'

Cathy said she would turn the whole house and garden upside down and get back to Blunt if she found anything which is exactly what the DC proceeded to do. She even looked inside every cupboard and wardrobe, silently praying that she would find the pair of them together hidden under the stairs or in some other equally improbable spot, caught in the act of some totally embarrassing and inexplicable romantic clinch. As nauseating an image as that might have been in her eyes it was at least preferable to any of the other appalling alternatives that were looming large in her head

Having looked in every conceivable nook and cranny and exhausted all the options, she turned to the outside and putting on a coat she ventured out into the back garden, doing a sweep of the whole area which turned up nothing of any interest. There now remained only one other possibility. It was with much trepidation and bated breath that she approached the shed and, after taking a deep breath, flung the door open to look inside. What she saw caused her to let out an involuntary scream of shock and horror. The body of DC Sweeney lay lifeless in the middle of the floor and she could see immediately that he was dead. She bent down to briefly examine him but it served only to confirm her initial reaction. The thin piece of wire which his attacker had obviously used to strangle him had been left hanging around his neck as if the killer felt no need to conceal his weapon of destruction but preferred to leave behind for all to see and wonder at his breathtaking audacity and ruthlessness.

Tears of sadness and despair started to trickle down Cathy's cheeks and she made no attempt to stem their flow as they mingled cosily with the rainwater that had already begun to soak her face. She wasn't crying because she counted Sweeney as a personal friend as well as a work colleague. She didn't particularly like him that much if she was being brutally honest – she had always dismissed him as the type of insensitive, laddish, socially inept and charmless type of heterosexual guy she had always steered well clear of outside of her work environment.

She was crying more because his death was a symbol of their failure to do their job of protecting Naomi from the threat of the serial killer. Sweeney's grisly death and Naomi's disappearance could only mean one thing – the killer had succeeded in abducting the young girl from right under their noses and was quite possibly contemplating killing her as well at that very moment. Her own position in the force was undoubtedly going to be subjected to the most rigorous scrutiny when the case was concluded but right then she was scarcely thinking about herself. The hideous images that were preying on her mind were the unimaginable terror that Naomi had to be feeling wherever she was and, worse even than that, the reaction of Emily to hearing the news that the girlfriend whom she adored had been snatched by the killer. She couldn't bear the realisation that she had let down Emily whom she had grown so fond of over the last few weeks and the thought of the young girl going to pieces on hearing the news made her sick to the stomach and prompted a fresh outbreak of tears which took her some time to control before she made her call to DS Blunt.

DS Blunt rang off after listening to Cathy and her long solemn face confirmed DI Straw's worst fears. 'Cathy's found Sweeney, gov,' she said in a low shaky voice which betrayed her shock and anxiety, despite her years of experience in this toughest of jobs. 'In the garden shed, strangled to death. There's no sign of Naomi.'

Straw closed his eyes for a second and visibly paled. He always felt emotionally shattered whenever he lost one of his team in the course of duty and the fact that on this occasion it had been DC Sweeney, whom he had always regarded as a bit of an irritating, hot-headed twat, was neither here nor there. He was one of _their _irritating, hot-headed twats and it was a tragic loss that the whole force would feel very deeply. But beyond his understandable sorrow at the demise of Sweeney lay his sudden runaway fears for Naomi Campbell. God alone knew what horrific fate lay in store for that poor young girl whom the serial killer had been targeting for weeks and whose safety it had been their responsibility to oversee. They had to assume that he had killed Sweeney, snatched Naomi and taken off with her. If she wasn't already lying dead somewhere, then she surely soon would be unless…

'We've got to try to question Katie Fitch right now. Our only hope of saving Naomi Campbell is getting a name or a description out of her before that bastard decides what to do with her. We need to speak to the doctor. _Don't_ tell Emily anything just yet!'

They hurried off in search of the doctor who had been treating Katie and found him outside the private room where Katie was lying in bed, surrounded by the whole Fitch family. He was observing the family discreetly, anxious to ensure his patient's recovery wasn't being jeopardised in any way, however unintentional, by her getting too traumatised from seeing her family gathered around her bedside.

'Doc, we need to speak to Katie right now. It's a matter of life and death. I know she hasn't long regained consciousness but we _have _to try to get her to give us something to go on. An innocent girl's life is at stake here.'

Straw didn't hold back in laying it on the line to the doctor as he knew the medic would only be concerned about the welfare of his patient, as he should be, but Straw had other concerns beyond Katie's recovery. She was going to be well looked after by the doctor and the rest of his staff whereas Naomi's safety lay solely in his hands and that could be largely determined by what information he and Blunt could extract from her right then.

'Okay,' said the doctor reluctantly, hearing the urgency in Straw's voice and noting the seriousness of his expression. 'But no more than a couple of minutes, do you hear me? I'll be watching and if I think she's getting stressed out from your questions then I won't hesitate to step in and throw you out. Understood?'

The two coppers nodded silently. 'You start off with the questions, Blunt,' whispered Straw before they entered the room. 'She might be less frightened by another woman talking to her to begin with.' They went into the room and all the heads of the Fitch family turned towards them as they entered. DS Blunt smiled at Emily who returned the sergeant's greeting in kind, if a little nervously. She had expected that the police would want to try to talk to Katie at some stage or other but she was somewhat taken aback that it was so soon after she had woken up. She was about to ask them why they needed to talk to her right now but Blunt anticipated that Emily might be on the point of asking them something they would rather not answer right then and got in first to ward her off.

'How is she?' she asked of no-one in particular and came over to the side of the bed where James and Rob were sitting next to one another.

'The doctor thinks she's doing okay considering everything she's been through,' said

Jenna without taking her eyes off her daughter who was lying quite still, her eyes briefly flickering open from time to time without ever suggesting any kind of permanent consciousness. Katie had the usual array of tubing and drips and other such medical accoutrements poking out of her orifices or connected up to her bed which always manages to convey far more panic and alarm than is probably justifiable. Most of this is precautionary and can often lead a visitor to think the patient is still at death's door which might be far from the case.

'Has she said anything yet?' Blunt asked, trying to make it sound a casual enquiry and not to show too much anxiety or urgency which might otherwise arouse Emily's suspicions before they had had a chance to speak to Katie.

'Not really,' said Emily, looking up at Blunt who had moved in closer to Katie alongside the two boys who seemed tongue-tied, indeed mesmerised by the distressing sight of their tough as old boots sister and daughter seemingly looking so fragile and vulnerable for once. 'A few grunts, that's all. But I think she can hear us.'

'I really need to try to speak to her just for a minute or so,' said DS Blunt softly. 'I _promise _I won't upset her or stress her out. But it's vital I try to find out if she can give us any details about the man who tried to attack her before she got run over. Is that all right?' Blunt didn't exactly wait for the family's agreement before she got hold of a chair and moved it forward so she could sit as close to Katie as possible without actually barging the two boys out of the way.

'Katie. Can you hear me? This is DS Blunt from the police. I know you really just want to rest right now but I need to ask you a couple of urgent questions and then I'll leave you alone with your family. Is that okay?'

Katie' eyes flickered open and seemed to be trying to focus on the sergeant who had leaned forward and had gently taken the young girl's left hand and clasped in her two hands. 'Can you hear me, Katie? If you can, squeeze my hand.'

Blunt felt Katie's fingers stir beneath hers and soon she felt a faint squeeze to signal that she could hear Blunt okay. 'Good girl, Katie. Now, listen to me carefully. I'm going to ask you a few simple questions. If the answer is yes, squeeze my hand once. If the answer is no, squeeze it twice. Do you understand?'

A squeeze of Blunt's hand indicated that a proper line of communication had been established between the two of them and the serious and vital questioning could now begin.

'Katie, did you see the man who tried to attack you before you got run over?' She paused and looked closely at Katie to see if there was any reaction. Katie's eyes remained closed but after a few seconds Blunt felt another squeeze from Katie's hand.

'Yes. Good girl. Did you recognise him? Had you met him before?'

Another pause followed by another squeeze of the hand followed immediately by a second squeeze. 'Yes to both questions. Good, Katie. You're doing really well.'

She could hear the sharp intakes of breath all around her but continued to concentrate on the young girl in the bed and ignored the undoubted tension and anxiety being felt by everyone else in the room, DI Straw included. She knew how important it was to plough on and get as much information as possible whilst Katie was still capable of giving it to her. Who could tell when exhaustion would finally overcome the poor girl and send her back into blessed sleep.

'Do you know his name, Katie?' She held her breath, praying that she would feel yet another squeeze, just the one again and waited anxiously for Katie to respond. After what seemed like an age she felt Katie's hand press hers once, then agonisingly a second time. 'No. You don't know his name. Okay, Katie.' She hesitated a little, pondering in her mind what question to ask next when she felt an unprompted squeeze of her hand heavier than any of the previous ones that Katie had given. 'What is it, Katie? What are you trying to tell me? You told me you don't know his name but do you know something else about him?'

Again a firm squeeze of her hand which caused Blunt to look round at Straw who came over towards the bed and stood next to Blunt, a dozen thoughts flying through his head at the rate of knots. What could she be trying to tell them? If she didn't know his name, did she know _something_ about him that would reveal his identity to them? What could that be? How could they get her to tell them? This could be crucial. But the next few questions would have to be the right ones. The girl might not be able to keep this up much longer before she drifted out of consciousness again.

'Where are you, you fucking bastard!' Cook punched the dashboard with real venom as he took yet another turning and drove along the bumpy track in a frantic desperate attempt to find the van which he had lost track of some two minutes ago. His hand started to ache and throb, so hard had he hit the dashboard but he scarcely even bothered to look at it. He had been able to keep the van just about in sight all the way to the edge of town but once it had veered off onto a twisting and turning country lane, poorly lit and with the rain still slanting across his windscreen, making it hellishly difficult to see further than thirty yards in front of him, he had lost sight of it completely. For all he knew the driver, who must have finally cottoned on that he was being followed by some unidentified maniac in a light-coloured saloon car, could have doubled back on himself and headed back for the city.

And yet something told Cook that this psycho had to be around here somewhere. Some sixth sense, some undeniable hunter's instinct in him convinced him that the van, its driver and the body in the back which he was sure was that of Naomi, were not far away. It was just a matter of exploring every country road in the area, one by one for however long it took, and he would track him down eventually. He wasn't going to give up, even it meant driving around in the countryside all night, in the pouring rain with a broken hand and worse still a badly battered and bruised ego.

Cook didn't give up that easily. Jack the Lad never cut out on a friend in need unless it was a strategic retreat with the sole purpose of living to fight another day. But on this occasion Cook knew that he couldn't afford to back away from this particular battle and return later, stronger, wiser and more prepared to win the ultimate war. If he turned tail now, however well-intentioned and strategically sensible, he would almost certainly never get a second chance to save the day for his friend Naomi. He had to carry on driving, no matter how desperate and forlorn his task appeared. He had no choice, not if he wanted to keep his self-respect intact. Better to have failed gloriously than to be seen meekly giving up trying to win a seemingly hopeless case.

The rain beating down on the windscreen seemed to match his ever deepening mood – unforgiving, relentless and sombre. It was a blessing in disguise that there were hardly any other cars on the road now for he was driving like a man possessed, not bothering to look behind him or around corners or even whenever he came to a junction. He just went wherever his instincts told him to go, chasing down every single car headlamp that he caught sight of in the distance and hunting them down until he had caught up and ascertained that it wasn't the van he was searching for. He realised only too well that he was acting like a headless chicken but what else could he do? He didn't see anyone else running to Naomi's rescue. Her life depended upon him entirely and it was up to him alone to save the day. All he had to do was believe in himself and self-confidence was a quality that he had never been in short supply of. Until now, that is.

The driver of the van looked in his rear view mirror for about the tenth time in the last five minutes and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. At last he was certain he had shaken off that persistent bastard whom he could have sworn had been on his trail ever since he had driven away from the house. He hadn't recognised the car but he knew it couldn't have been the one that the cops had been driving the girls around in so he was at a loss as to who the hell it might have been following him all over town.

Of course it might just have been his overactive imagination. God knows he had been living right on the edge of his nerves that afternoon but as it turned out everything had gone swimmingly. Even killing that dickhead of a copper had been surprisingly easy and snatching Naomi from inside the house had been a piece of piss as well. He hadn't even needed to get rid of the other copper though God knows where she was at the time he entered the house – some crack protection team they had proved to be! It was like taking candy from a baby and he couldn't suppress a smile at the memory of how easy it had been.

He glanced round to check that Naomi was still unconscious which she was. Part of him wished that he hadn't had to hit her quite so hard but he couldn't afford for her to let out any kind of warning to the lady copper so he had been left with no option but to knock her out. .He comforted himself with the knowledge that she would soon be waking up in a nice, warm, comfortable bed with an almighty headache and a bump the size of an egg at the back of her head. And his undivided attention, he sniggered.

Within a few minutes he had turned the van into the driveway and pulled up outside the front door, swinging the van round so that it was side on to the front of the house. Not that there was much chance of anyone seeing him take Naomi out from the back of the van and carry her into the house but he wasn't going to take any risks even at this late stage. The moment he had dreaming of was almost upon him and he didn't want to cock the whole thing up by being careless and complacent. He still had to stick to his plan right up until the last moment.

He got out of the van, walked round to the back, opened the doors and carefully picked up a still unconscious yet breathing Naomi, putting her over his shoulder as he had done earlier on before carrying her over to the front door, opening it and going through. Once inside he made straight for the stairs leading down to the cellar but had barely gone more than a couple of steps down when a man's weak, muffled voice cried out his name from somewhere behind him.

'Yes, Dad, it's only me. I'll be along to see you in a minute. I've just got to go to the toilet. I've been bursting for a piss for the last five minutes. Hang on a sec, will you?'

He continued down the stairs until he reached the bottom whereupon he staggered confidently down a long, dark corridor which led to a door at the end of it which he kicked open and went inside. He carried Naomi over to a large bed and carefully laid her down on it, pausing only to gently stroke her long platinum blonde hair back from her face so he could have a long, lingering look at her. He was breathing more heavily now than he had been when carrying her over his shoulder and he had to clench his fists to stop himself from going any further. PATIENCE! There would be time enough for all that later.

He reached inside one of the drawers in the bedside table and pulled out a set of handcuffs and proceeded to handcuff each of her hands to the big shiny brass bedstead above her head. Finally he took out some black masking tape from the same drawer, tore off a strip with his teeth and applied it firmly over her mouth. Satisfied that she wouldn't be running away or screaming for help any time soon, he reluctantly left the room, closing the door behind him and went back upstairs to say hello to his stupid old fart of a father.

'Come on, Katie, you can do it!' encouraged DS Blunt as she leant further forward to within an inch or two of Katie's mouth. She had been trying to say something just a moment ago and Blunt had sensed the need for her to bend over and try to make out the words she was clearly desperate to communicate. 'Tell me again.'

Katie's eyes were wide open but she was so weak and exhausted that hardly a sound came out even though Blunt could see her lips moving as she attempted to make an intelligible sound. Blunt studied her lips intently as the poor girl tried yet again to say the word but it was all in vain. As hard as she tried Katie simply didn't have enough strength and energy to make a meaningful sound. All that came out was a sort of gasp or wheeze which made no sense at all.

'It looked like she was trying to say something beginning with M,' Blunt said, turning towards DI Straw who had also been watching the young girl's face closely and he gave a half nod in agreement. It looked like that to him also.

'Does the man's name begin with an M, Katie?' Is it Matthew?'

Katie squeezed DS Blunt's hand twice in succession but the sergeant could tell that the squeezes were getting weaker by the minute compared to when they first began this unconventional means of communication. 'No, it isn't Matthew,' she deduced, much to Straw's disappointment who still had Matthew Moore at the top of his list of suspects.

'Michael, perhaps? Is it Michael, Katie? What about Mark? Does she know anyone beginning with the letter M?' Straw turned towards Emily and the rest of the Fitch family who all shook their heads blankly.

Katie made another superhuman effort to say the word that was clearly on her lips but still nothing would come out save for the same stifled gasp, the same half-formed murmur of an aspirated sound. 'It could be a B,' said Emily, recognising the importance to the police of what Katie was trying to say but still very uneasy as to why they seemed hell-bent on pulling out all the stops now. Why couldn't they let her rest a while and try again later? She couldn't see why it was so vital they got her to speak right now …..unless….?

'I thought it might have been a P,' suggested Rob.

'Yeah, that's it! Maybe she was just trying to tell us all to **piss off** and leave her alone, said James, turning a mischievous face towards his Dad who couldn't help chuckling at his son's quip despite the seriousness of the situation.

'Look, I think this has gone on long enough,' said Jenna who had been watching the interrogation with considerable distaste and rising concern for her daughter's recovery and had now decided to put her foot down. 'Can you all please leave her alone now? She's still very weak and needs to be left alone to rest. You'll have to do what you can with what she's told you. I won't stand for this any more. My daughter's still critically ill! Please go now!'

Straw and Blunt got up from Katie's bedside with the greatest of reluctance but at least remembered to thank the family for allowing them to try to speak to Katie before leaving the family to it in the private room. It had been along shot but they had given it a go. There wasn't much to go on, admittedly, but maybe they could follow up all the people she knew beginning with the letters B, M or P. But they were running out of time fast. Who knew whether it was a matter of hours or perhaps just minutes?


	26. Chapter 26

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Cook drives around the Bristol countryside frantically trying to track down the killer's van. Cathy finds out Naomi has disappeared from the house and discovers the dead body of Sweeney in the shed. Straw and Blunt attempt to get Katie to talk to them and give them the name of her attacker but it fails. The killer arrives home with a still unconscious Naomi whom he takes down to a room in the cellar, handcuffs to a bed and tapes over her mouth and leaves alone in the dark..

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: GIVE US A CLUE!**

DI Straw and DS Blunt were having a quiet chat in the hospital corridor, debating the next course of action following their ultimately unsuccessful attempt to get a name or even a vague description of the killer out of Katie, when they saw Emily suddenly come out of the private room and make a call on her mobile further along the corridor. They both fell silent and watched her until she hung up with an audible oath of frustration and then came over to join them. Her face screamed out anxiety and bewilderment and Straw could make a pretty educated guess at what was about to follow.

'Why were you so desperate to question Katie?' she asked, staring them full in the face with more than a hint of accusation in her voice. 'I know you want to catch this guy before he kills again, so do we all, but I got the feeling there was something more to it than that. What's going on? Is everything okay with Naomi? I've just tried to call her and she's not answering.'

Straw and Blunt exchanged silent solemn glances before Straw took control of the situation. He accepted that they couldn't keep the news of Naomi's abduction a secret from Emily any longer – she had a right to know as Naomi's girlfriend. He asked Emily to come and sit down with them for a moment which immediately alerted her already heightened suspicions. She began backing away from them both and shaking her head violently from side from side to side, seemingly in an attempt to stop them from telling her what she didn't want to hear and yet she couldn't help shouting out to them 'What's happened? Where's Naomi? Please tell me she's all right?'

She had already begun to fear the worst as huge tears were starting to stream down her face and she put her hands up to her mouth to stop herself from screaming her head off. Blunt and Straw caught up with her and Blunt put an arm round her shoulders and pulled the shaking, sobbing girl towards her. 'I'm really sorry, Emily,' said DI Straw softly, 'but I've got some bad news for you. It appears that Naomi has been abducted from the house. We don't know….'

But he never got any further as Emily began screaming an agonising wail of "No!" at the top of her voice, a hideously blood-curdling scream which echoed all around the hospital and which quickly brought all manner of people running out of adjacent rooms anxious to find out what the matter was, including Rob and Jenna Fitch. The redhead was screaming and shaking so much that Blunt, who had taken a firm grip on her as Straw was breaking the dreadful news, had a real job on her hands holding on to the poor distraught young girl whom she could see was clearly on the very edge of losing her mind. The sergeant managed to keep the young girl on her feet for a few seconds before the weight of her shock and distress became all too much for her and she collapsed to the floor still screaming and sobbing hysterically just at the moment when Rob and Jenna started haring down the corridor in great anxiety to see what was wrong.

'What's happened?' shouted Rob as he and Jenna both fell to their knees next to Emily and began to comfort their sobbing daughter who hardly even seemed to notice they were there, so emotionally numb and ripped apart was she feeling by the news about Naomi that she could hardly see anything past the floods of tears that had temporarily blinded her

'Naomi's been abducted from the house,' explained Blunt matter of factly and she bit her lip to stop herself from showing too much emotion despite the terrible churning feeling she had in her stomach that they had failed Emily badly. As police officers working on the case they couldn't afford to get too personally or emotionally involved, however distressing the situation was, since it was their job to remain focused and calm and deal with whatever events were presented to them in a professional manner but Blunt had never found that key part of her job easy.

'Oh my God!' said Jenna in a trembling voice and she threw her arms around Emily and held her sobbing daughter in her arms, stroking her head and telling her everything was okay which it plainly wasn't.

'By the serial killer?' A visibly pale-faced Rob turned his head towards the coppers and looked at them aghast, unable to believe that they could have allowed something like that to have happened. 'But you were supposed to protect them both! How the fuck could he have grabbed Naomi right under the noses of your protection team?'

DI Straw looked down at Rob as he and Jenna slowly tried to help Emily back onto her feet/ 'I'm afraid he killed one of our detectives before he got into the house and took Miss Campbell.'

Emily stopped crying for a few seconds to gaze wild-eyed at Straw. 'Not Cathy? Please don't tell me he's killed Cathy as well!'

'No, she's okay. But he did kill DC Sweeney. Cathy found him in the shed. He'd been strangled.'

Emily burst into tears again although it was hard to tell if they were tears of mourning for Sweeney or tears of relief that Cathy at least had survived the killer's malevolent visit to the Fitch fortress. Rob and Jenna led Emily gently back down the corridor, heading back for the private room where a still drowsy Katie was lying in bed totally unaware of the dramatic incidents of the last hour but not before Rob had left a parting shot with Straw and Blunt that was to reverberate around the heads for the rest of the day

'You just bloody find that poor girl, do you hear me? I don't care how you do it but you'd better find her soon, right, before that bastard can do anything. For Emily's sake, please, I beg you; just bring her back to us alive! Otherwise, well, I won't be responsible for my actions!' Even Jenna nodded in agreement with Rob's thinly veiled warning as they led the limp, almost lifeless body of their daughter away.

Naomi had been fully conscious for some five minutes now and had only just stopped freaking out completely. When she had first woken up to find herself handcuffed to a strange bed in a strange dark room and with masking tape over her mouth making it difficult or at the very least uncomfortable for her to breathe properly, she almost passed out immediately through sheer blind terror. In fact, judging by the horrible squelchy feeling she could sense in her trousers and the ever so slight smell of urine in the air, she was fairly sure she must have pissed herself at some point or other during that short period of panic-inducing, heart-stopping, stomach-churning discovery.

Oddly enough this realisation now made her feel thoroughly ashamed of herself. How the fuck could she have allowed the admittedly terrifying situation she was in to have had such an effect on her bladder? If she ever got out of this room alive, she didn't know how she would possibly live that embarrassment down. She was just relieved she hadn't been wearing a lighter coloured pair of leggings which would undoubtedly have shown up the tell-tale stain far more clearly than the ones she had chosen to put on that morning. I t would be soooo humiliating to be rescued with a massive yellow piss patch clearly visible to the naked eye.

Now that she had taken stock of the situation and was becalmed, relatively speaking, that is, compared to the awful moment when she woke up and was immediately gripped by a fear she had never experienced before, she began to think back to the last thing she could remember. She was talking to DC Sweeney in the kitchen and then everything was a blur. Obviously the guy wasn't Sweeney after all, she thought. It was the bastard who had been terrorising her for the last few weeks and who had been killing other girls before he made his move on her. She fought the tears back gamely as she wondered if she was had any chance of getting out of this place alive and being reunited with Emily again.

The thought of poor Emily breaking down on hearing the news about her abduction brought fresh waves of tears to her eyes. She instinctively tried to free her hands from the handcuffs above her head but she knew even while she was doing it that such feverish attempts would be a complete waste of time and energy. The killer was hardly going to make it easy for her to escape seeing as how he had gone to such relentless, painstaking trouble to hunt her down and capture her in the first place. She told herself to calm down and start thinking rationally and logically. Desperate, panic-stricken measures were not going to get her out of this frightening situation. She had to stay calm and focused and above all not lose her head. This psycho, whoever he was, might be in control for now but it was she who could have the ultimate say as to whether she lived or died.

It all depended what he wanted from her. If he had abducted her purely to have sex with her, then she would have to give in and let him have his pathetic, evil way with her. After all, the act itself would mean absolutely nothing to her and it certainly wasn't worth sacrificing her life just so as to stop him from screwing her. Besides, she didn't imagine he would be giving her much of a chance to fight him off so if letting him do it prolonged her life, gave her more time to work out a way of escaping or gave the police more time to find her and save her from him, then so much the better.

But what if he wanted more than just sex from her which, when she considered the idea, seemed far more likely? If this guy had simply wanted to fuck her then surely he would have dragged her off to some isolated spot in the woods, raped her and then killed her before hiding her body for it to be discovered by some poor sod walking his dog several days later. The fact that he had brought her here, to this bedroom in some godforsaken house somewhere or other, and manacled her to the bed proved that he had something far more complicated, much more twisted and perverse than mere sexual violation in mind and that thought sent a fresh shiver of fear through her already trembling body. She tried to block out of her mind thoughts of the kind of things he might have in store for her when he returned. If she allowed herself to be tortured by images of the potentially terrifying ordeals he was planning to inflict on her then she would be incapable of summoning up the courage to fight for her life as she knew she would have to.

She wondered how long he was going to leave her in here all alone before he came back to see her and possibly reveal his identity to her at last. Or maybe he wouldn't show himself at all: maybe he would be wearing a mask so she couldn't recognise him again. But wouldn't that mean he was thinking of letting her go free but was anxious that she shouldn't be able to describe him to the police? Yes, that would surely be the best scenario, wouldn't it? If he appeared without a mask or any kind of disguise that would mean he couldn't care less if she saw his face because he had no intention of letting her live after he had finished with her. But if he had a mask on – well, that could be good news!

Another thought crossed her mind as her eyes looked all around the room searching vainly for clues as to where she was or anything that might give her a possible angle on this evil bastard which she could use against him when he finally had the balls to come back and face her. Surely the fact that he had seen the need to muffle her with tape meant that there had to be other people nearby who would be alerted if she started screaming for help? If this guy lived all on his own way out in the sticks with no close neighbours to hear her screams, like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs, he wouldn't have bothered to temporarily shut her up the way he had done. So, someone had to be reasonably close at hand for him to have gone to this trouble! This gave her the slightest of hope to cling on to as she lay helpless on the bed, heart thumping like the clappers, breathing heavily and uncomfortably through her nose and trying to keep hold of her nerves and her senses. She was struggling valiantly to stop herself from being overpowered by fear and overcome with longing to see Emily one more time before she died and tell her she would love her forever

Cathy's voice rang out loud and clear over Straw's mobile. 'Sir, we've had a report filed of a young guy flagging down a car on the road around the time Naomi was abducted, hijacking it with force and driving off at speed.'

Straw quickly relayed the information to Blunt and told Cathy to get a team onto it right away, adding that she should get herself over to the hospital on the double and stay with Emily and the Fitch family. He wanted her to have another stab at trying to get Katie to communicate with them somehow or other. He hadn't given up hope of getting some detail from her, however insignificant, about her attacker that would give them another genuine lead as to his identity.

'Do you really think it's our guy, gov? I mean, why would he flag down a car to take Naomi off somewhere? Surely he would be far too organised to leave something like that to chance? He would have brought his own transport, wouldn't he?'

'You'd have thought so, wouldn't you? But….it's the only lead we've got at the moment and we'd be stupid not to follow it up. If it wasn't him, then who the hell was it?'

'A coincidence, perhaps? Just some young tearaway who fancied a bit of a joyride?'

Straw shook his head dubiously. 'I don't believe in coincidences, Blunt. Even if it wasn't our guy, it must have something to do with Naomi's abduction. I can feel it in my bones. We _are_ getting close to this guy. The question is, will we find him before it's too late for the girl?'

'Let's hope Katie gets a bit more with it and can actually tell us something, then.'

'Make sure Cathy gets in to see her and has another go at her. Speak to the doctor again and the family. Now that they know what's happened to Naomi maybe they'll be more prepared to let us try to talk to Katie again. Have a word with Emily on her own if you can. She'll be desperate for us to find her girlfriend. Maybe she could try speaking to Katie. You never know, she may respond better to her twin's voice than any of us.'

Cook was starting to believe he could drive around the Bristol countryside all night and not get so much as a sniff of this psycho and his blasted van. Admittedly the rain had begun to ease off a little in the last twenty minutes, making it more possible for him to see where he was going and to distinguish between all the different vehicles parked along the roadside or in the drives of the various houses he came across. Nonetheless he was getting very dejected by his lack of progress and he was yawning increasingly and finding it hard to keep his eyes open and fixed on the road. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he decided and he pulled out his mobile with his spare hand and rung Naomi's number. He wasn't surprised that no-one answered his call. If she did have her phone with her he would have thought this bastard would have taken it off her. If she didn't, well why would anyone bother to pick up the call?

He tried Emily's number next and was relieved to hear her pick up his call almost immediately although the tone of her voice which was virtually breaking down as she spoke confirmed to him his worst fears about Naomi's fate.

'Cook? What do you want? This isn't a good time, you know?'

'What's up, Emily? What's happened? What do you know?'

'Naomi's …Naomi's been abducted by the serial killer…' but she couldn't go on as she burst into floods of tears which he could hear all the way down the line and which shook even an old sweat like him to the very core of his being. He had never heard anyone sound so utterly beside herself with grief and despair and he knew he had to say something, anything that would give her hope that all was far from lost.

'I thought so, Ems. I was outside the house when the bastard took her. I've been on his trail ever since.'

He could hear her tears subside for a few seconds as she gradually took in the full meaning of what he had just said.

'What? You mean, you know where they are? You've found out where he's taken her?'

'Not exactly. I lost him a while back.' Then, as he heard her heart-rending sobbing start all over again as his reluctant admission of failure seemed to signal the end of her briefly raised hopes that he was in a position to save her, he tried to revitalise her spirits. 'But I'm looking for them, Emily. I've been searching all around the countryside for ages to find his van. Look, I WILL find them, I promise. I'm not going to give up. I won't come back without Naomi alive and well. That's a promise.'

Emily fell silent as if trying to assess whether she could realistically place any faith whatsoever in his sworn pledge to find and rescue her girlfriend from the clutches of an evil serial killer. He had done many extraordinary things in his short life, she knew that all too well but could he really pull this one off? He would truly be her hero for ever if he were to succeed. But she was feeling so crushed, so lonely and so utterly helpless at that moment that it was going to take a hell of a lot more than mere words or empty promises to make her believe she would see the love of her life alive again.

'Look, Emily, I'm going to carry on driving around and looking. The moment the police get any clues as to who this guy is or where he might live, you call me right away, d'you hear? I'm the man on the spot here. I know he's close by. I can get to him long before the police, so you call me the moment you hear of anything. Okay?'

'Okay,' said Emily still sniffling loudly and unsuccessfully trying to choke back the tears and she rang off. She leant forward in her seat, put her head in her hands and wept buckets more, her shoulders shaking up and down violently as she tried to block out the images of Naomi lying somewhere bleeding to death which were already starting to haunt her and drive her out of her mind.

She must have drifted off to sleep out of sheer nervous exhaustion because when Naomi opened her eyes again it was to feel her right shoulder being gently shaken and a vaguely familiar voice speaking to her through the darkness of the room from the side of the bed. It took her a few more seconds for her eyes to become accustomed to the light, or the lack of it, in the room and for her to be able to focus properly on the face of the person whom she could make out was sitting on the edge of the bed, just a few inches away from her.

She could see straight away he wasn't wearing a mask to hide his features so he clearly didn't care that she could see his face or even recognise him. That could surely only mean one thing and it wasn't good news, of that she was certain. Instinctively she shivered violently and pulled back, her body stiffening like a red-hot poker and the sweat pouring down from her forehead as she realised that this guy, this serial killer of at least three young girls of roughly the same age as her, was quite happy for her to see his face. And when she did finally steel herself to gaze into his face, she was initially taken aback by the fact that he was smiling kindly at her. He even reached out an arm towards her own face and gently, ever so carefully, wiped her perspiring brow with a pleasingly cold flannel. But then the lightening bolt shock she got when she recognised who it was made her gasp in utter disbelief, a gasp which quickly turned into a scream, albeit stifled entirely by the tape still fixed around her mouth.

It wasn't an instant recognition such as with an old friend or someone she'd known for years but the sudden dawning realisation that it was a guy whom she knew, slightly, but no more than that, an acquaintance shall we say, certainly not a friend by any stretch of the imagination. It was a comfortingly familiar face, one that in any other circumstances would have caused her to give a casual smile in recognition if she had run into him in the street or in a bar but no more than that and she definitely wouldn't have been tempted to indulge in harmless, casual conversation with him. But it was him, all right, unmistakeably so, and it was almost impossible to credit that someone whom she would have barely given a second glance to previously now captured her fullest attention and had virtually paralysed her whole body with fear and dread. The guy returned her terrified look with another smile as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, ignoring her vain attempts to shrink back from him and turn her head away from him so she couldn't hear him speak.

'I'm going to take the tape off now, Naomi so we can talk. But don't even think of screaming, will you, sweetheart?' He produced a long kitchen knife from his pocket and the gleaming sharp blade seemed to almost glow eerily in the cold, damp darkness of this dungeon-like room as he held it in front of Naomi's face so she could see it in all its menacing glory. 'Don't make me have to cut your pretty little face. I really don't want to do that. You're far too beautiful. I want to keep you looking as beautiful as this forever. So be a good girl and don't make a sound. Do you understand ?'

Naomi nodded furiously even though her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst out of her now uncontrollably heaving chest and fresh beads of terror-induced sweat were rolling down the sides of her face which again her abductor considerately wiped up with the flannel. He leaned forward over her, grabbed one end of the tape firmly with a thumb and forefinger and paused before saying, 'This might hurt a bit but only for a second but at least you'll be able to breathe more easily. Are you ready?'

'Come on, Katie, pleeeease!' Emily was sitting by the side of the hospital bed, holding Katie's hand and begging her to come up with something that would give the police a lead on who might have snatched Naomi. Cathy was on the other side of the bed, silently willing Emily's twin to say something that would make her feel less miserable and distraught at having failed to keep Emily's girlfriend safe from harm.

They had been trying for some two or three minutes to help the sick young girl to speak but yet again she had only been capable of making a few unintelligible rasping sounds that might have been a word beginning with B or M or perhaps even P but no-one could be quite sure.

'What about if you tried to get her to write the name down?' suggested James from the end of the bed where he and his parents were looking on anxiously, each of them feeling like they were caught between a rock and a hard place. Of course they wanted Katie to have as much rest as possible to accelerate her recovery. But at the same time they could see how grief-stricken and almost off her head with terror Emily was at the prospect of losing Naomi and none of then could bear to see her in such a state. Rob and Jenna feared for her health and her mind if the police didn't get Naomi back so they agreed top let Katie be questioned by Cathy once more.

'Good idea,' said Cathy and she rummaged around in her bag and soon brought out some paper and a pen. She got up and leaned forward towards Katie whose eyes were wide open but otherwise seemed too weak and feeble to take in much of what was going on around her. 'Katie, here's a pen and some paper. See if you can write this man's name down. That's all we need, Katie, just one name. Then we can trace where he lives and find Naomi in time to save her. Just have a go, there's a love. Try and do it…for Emily's sake!

Katie seemed to be staring at Cathy as the detective pressed the pen into Katie's right hand and put the sheets of paper into her left one. Then she looked down at the pen and paper and after a brief moment's hesitation which seemed to last a lifetime to Emily she moved the pen down towards the paper and began to write something. Everyone held their breath and fell silent for fear of disturbing Katie's concentration and interrupting her before she had finished. After a minute's intense effort on Katie part which must have taken a great deal out of her for she fell back instantly afterwards and let both pen and paper fall out of her hands and on to the bed, Cathy bent forward to pick up the sheets of paper and inspected what Katie had written.

'Is it a name?' asked Emily plaintively as all eyes were now turned on Cathy. The DC shook her head and looked up at the tearful redhead with a puzzled expression. 'I don't know what it is. It's a drawing of some sort but I haven't got a clue what she's trying to say.'

'Let me see,' cried Emily, almost snatching the paper out of Cathy's hand. The rest of the family gathered round behind Emily to observe the fruits of Katie's painful, prolonged deliberations. They all gazed at the drawing and looked at each other completely mystified.

'It looks like a square,' said Rob who always called things exactly how he saw them and was never very good at thinking outside the box..

'Well, I suppose so,' said Jenna. 'Although, strictly speaking, it's more of a rectangle than a square.'

'So what are those two wobbly lines going from the top corners and kind of meeting in the middle?' asked James. 'What sort of name is that? Is it a squiggle, like Prince?'

'It's not a name, stupid. It's a clue of some kind. Maybe she doesn't know his actual name so she's trying to give us a clue. But what the fuck does it mean!' On this occasion Jenna chose to ignore her daughter's swearing given the extraordinarily trying circumstances they were in.

'Is it a clue to his name, Katie?' Cathy leaned forward towards Katie one more time and looked at the poor girl whom she could see was trying to say something and she pressed her ear close to Katie's mouth in an effort to pick up any sounds that might come out. Katie's mouth opened and closed to let out the tiniest gasp of air like the last time.

'I'm sure she's trying to say a word beginning with B or P – or possibly an M. One's lips all make the same shape when you exaggerate the first letter of a word beginning with any of those.'

Emily had fallen silent and was sitting back in her chair studying Katie's drawing more intently than anything else she had examined in her life. This was the ultimate puzzle for her, the cryptic clue to end all cryptic clues, the prince of lateral thinking exercises which normally she was crap at but now she knew she had to crack it if Naomi's life was to have even an outside chance of being saved. Her chest was throbbing with excruciating pain as she felt the pressure mount by the second as she kept staring at the sheet of paper with the seemingly meaningless doodle on it.

Several minutes passed during which Jenna attended to Katie and Rob and Cathy had a short conversation in low voices. Suddenly Emily let out a scream so high-pitched the others all immediately feared she was having a heart attack and had already started to move across to her with horror etched all over their faces. But before they could reach her she stood up and, with mouth open wide in disbelief and with a look of triumph and unparalleled relief spread all over her face, she waved the sheet of paper like a raving lunatic in front of her.

OH MY GOD! OH MY FUCKING GOD! I think I've got it,' she cried, her voice trembling with excitement and her hands shaking like a leaf. 'Look! This is what she was trying to draw. And why she was trying to say something beginning with P.'

The others all rushed over to gather round Emily again and watched as first off she drew a rectangle and then she added two lines inside the rectangle from the top two corners, but this time dead straight and meeting perfectly in the middle of the rectangle.

'Can't you see what it is?' she shouted at the others who were staring hard at her drawing with utterly bemused expressions.

'Oh, Jesus Christ! I think I can see it now,' said Cathy in a strangled whisper. 'It's an envelope!'

'That's right, an envelope. Or rather, to be more precise, a letter. And who delivers letters?'

'Shit! A postman!'

'It's the postman, Cathy! It's our own fucking postman! That's the word Katie was trying so hard to say – 'postman'! When she couldn't say it she tried to draw a picture of an envelope delivered by the postman! That's the bastard who's got my Naomi!


	27. Chapter 27

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: At the hospital Straw and Blunt are forced to tell Emily that Naomi has been abducted by the serial killer and Emily collapses to the floor in shock at the news. Naomi awakes to find she had been handcuffed to a bed in a dark room and gagged with masking tape. Cook calls Emily to tell her that he was on the killer's tail before losing him but tries to reassure her that he will find Naomi and bring her back alive. When the abductor comes into the room to see Naomi she recognises who he is. Back at the hospital Katie manages to draw a cryptic clue to the killer's identity which Emily works out points to it possibly being Naomi's postman.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: A RACE AGINST TIME**

DI Straw's heart rate was climbing off the scale after he had finished speaking to Cathy and he turned to an expectant DS Blunt with a glint of hope in his eyes.

'Our guy could be the girls' postman. Katie Fitch managed to draw a picture of an envelope. That could be the word she was desperately trying to say – postman. Get the team working on it right now! I want a name and address for the postman who delivers the mail to their street in the next five minutes. We don't know how much time we've got. He's had quite a head start on us. Let's just hope to God we're not too late.'

An adrenaline-fuelled Blunt flew immediately into action. She too suspected they had very little time to get to Naomi before the killer decided he had enough of playing games with her and moved in on the kill. She mentally crossed her fingers that they weren't barking up the wrong tree and that Katie's attacker and the guy who had killed Sweeney and abducted Naomi weren't two completely different people. She barked out her instructions to the murder team and within seconds the incident room was a hive of activity as squad detectives got on to phones and feverishly tapped away on computers, trawling through all their databases to dig up the vital information that they needed.

In less than a couple of minutes they had the all-important name they were looking for and it came as quite a shock to DS Blunt.. 'What? Did you say David Mitchell?'

The detective constable who had been first to find out the information and had triumphantly shouted out the name across the room now nodded somewhat nervously, fearful that he had made some horrendous cock-up which would have Blunt and Straw coming down on him like a ton of bricks. DI Straw looked across at his sergeant who had turned as white as a sheet at the mention of the guy's name. 'Why? Do you know him?'

'Yes, gov. We talked to him only last week. He was Mark Webb's mate who confirmed Mark's alibi when Katie was attacked outside the night club. He came in and gave me a statement which backed up Mark's story.'

'Jesus Christ! You mean, we actually had him in here?' DI Straw looked like he was about to spontaneously combust on the spot and all the other coppers in the room quickly averted their eyes from his gaze and looked down at the floor, each praying he wouldn't catch sight of them and take his legendary volcanic fury out on them.

'We were only interested in whether he could confirm Mark's story. I did question him about his own movements but…well, it was all pretty vague and he wasn't able to confirm when he left the club except to claim that it must have been at least an hour after Mark had left with his girlfriend. He seemed a pretty quiet, shy kind of guy, if I remember. He didn't seem to fit our profile of the killer.'

'Well, let's try not to let him get away from us a second time, shall we? Come on, chop chop! We haven't got all night! A girl's life is at stake here!'

Straw stormed off, still silently seething that they might have already had their guy nonchalantly sitting in their station only to let him go without anything more than a casual glance. If it turned out that they got to him too late to save Naomi, he didn't know if he could ever forgive himself for having failed Emily and Naomi's family so badly. He could see that Blunt was feeling awful about what had happened but this was not the time for a post-mortem on how this Mitchell chap could have slipped through their fingers so easily. There would be time enough for that later – IF they managed to get Naomi free from his clutches alive. Blunt followed hard on her governor's heels, her face still pale with the shocking discovery they had made but her jaw set firm with a stony resolution to atone for her error.

With a certain amount of reluctance Emily dragged herself away from Katie's bedside and slipped out into the corridor with as little fuss as possible and made for a quiet spot where she could make a call on her mobile. The rest of the family were still preoccupied with making a huge fuss over Katie for having come up trumps at last with what they all hoped, Jenna included it is only fair to report, would turn out to be the big breakthrough the police were praying for to give them a chance of catching the killer and saving Naomi's life.

Much as Emily wanted to share in the family's joy and relief, her head was full of thoughts of Naomi and she was still nearly going out of her mind with worry and panic at what that evil, malicious bastard might be doing to the love of her life at that very moment. Her chest was aching so much she was almost bent double with the pain and she was forcing herself to make a superhuman effort all the time not to simply search for a quiet corner in which to hide and cry herself into oblivion. Despite Cathy's immediate call to DI Blunt with news of Katie's revelation and all the policewoman's subsequent reassurances and promises that the police would find their postman and rescue Naomi in next to no time at all, Emily was far from becalmed and placated. She had put her faith in the police to keep her and Naomi safe and sound from this mystery maniac and they had failed her.

A few hours ago she would have trusted Cathy, Sweeney and the whole of the Bristol CID with her life as well as Naomi's but now her confidence and faith in them had been cruelly ripped asunder and laid to waste. Naomi had been stolen from her right under their very noses and no amount of earnest, profuse, almost tearful apologies and promises given by Cathy were going to make her place her trust in them so readily again They had let her down and so she found herself being somewhat ironically drawn towards someone who had never had much respect for authority in general, never mind the police in particular. She was prepared at that moment to place her trust in a guy who had never to her knowledge let his friends down before and in whom she strangely had more confidence and belief than the whole of the police force with all the myriad resources at its disposal.

She was hanging on by her fingernails to the weird notion that if anyone could find and save Naomi before it was too late it would be Cook. He had acquired almost mystical, mythical powers in her imagination ever since she had received that first call from him that evening and it was to him that she was turning now even though she was aware that DI Straw's best men were on the case of this killer at that very moment. She rang his number and waited impatiently, hands trembling, body shaking and gasping for air and feeling so light-headed she was afraid she might even faint before he picked up the call. When she eventually heard his voice she gave a huge sigh of relief – at least that meant he hadn't become yet another casualty of this sick psycho's campaign of terror against her nearest and dearest.

'What's the news, Emilio? What have you got for me? I still can't find this bastard anywhere.'

'It's the postman, Cook! I'm sure of it. It's Naomi's postman! You remember him, don't you? You must have seen him when you were hiding from the cops at our place.'

'The postman? Yeah, I remember him all right. A right shifty little geezer. Always spying on the two of you, right? Are you sure it's him?'

'I'm certain it is, Cook. Look, the police are trying to trace him right now but you're ahead of them and we don't know how much time we've got to find Naomi. PLEASE, Cook, help me! You're my only hope of saving her! You've got to…..'

Cook could hear her break down sobbing in tears again and guessed she couldn't carry on speaking, her pain and heartache clearly proving far too much for her to handle. He wondered if being in love was really such a bloody marvellous thing if it also had the capacity to bring you so much unbearable misery and pain at the same time. He had experienced his own share of personal torment and torture in the last year with Effy but he couldn't begin to imagine the horrors that Emily had to be going through right then, not knowing if she would ever see her beloved Naomi alive again.

As he listened with a heavy heart to an emotionally shattered and scarred Emily unashamedly bawling her eyes out down the phone he became profoundly aware of something for perhaps the first time. As much as he had always fancied the arse off Naomi and would have shagged her at the slightest invitation on her part- and indeed he recalled vividly nearly doing precisely that on one occasion – without so much as a thought for anyone else she might have been involved with, he realised at that very poignant moment that Naomi couldn't possibly have belonged to anyone other than Emily.

These two girls whom he was proud to call his friends, despite the many ups and downs they had experienced in their relationships these past two years, were made for each other, indeed were meant to be together and the fact that they were two girls and not a guy and a girl seemed completely irrelevant to him right then, despite all the gentle piss-taking and sexist innuendoes he had frequently come out with at their expense since they had all first got to know each other. He saw as if with fresh eyes and a gently stirring soul how much in love they were and how essential it was to him, never mind to each other, that they should be reunited and be given the chance to live happily ever after. How could he ever hope to find a solution to the problem of his own troubled soul if these two people would never find happiness together again?

The sound of Emily's increasingly heart-rending sobs of anguish on the other end of the line roughly dragged Cook away from his unaccustomed musings on the meaning of love and back to the present life and death situation for Naomi.

'Emilio! Listen to me, now. Do you know where this postman lives?'

'I've no idea,' croaked Emily through the tears. 'I expect the police are trying to find that out right now. But even if they find out his address, they've still got to get over there and get Naomi away from him without her being hurt. That's all going to take time, Cook. What if she hasn't got much time left?' She broke down again as her overactive imagination threatened to run wild with all manner of possible scenarios, most of which seemed to spell the end of the road for her girlfriend.

'Listen to me, Emilio. She's going to be okay, do you hear me. Cook's going to find her and save her, okay. Look, now that I know who it is I might be able to track him more easily. I know a guy who works in the post office. I'll give him a call and see if he knows where this maniac lives. I'm sure he will so don't give up hope, Emilio! I'm gonna bring her back to you, I promise. You just hang in there, all right?'

He could hear his friend's sobs start to subside just a touch and the sound of her sniffing gave him hope that she might be about to pull herself together a bit and stay alert and all ears for his sake, rather than lapse into such a state of melancholic despair that she would be of no use to him at all. 'I need you to stay closely in touch with the cops, Emilio. The minute you get any info on this postie, you call me, do you hear?'

Emily mumbled her agreement through thick, bunged up nasal tones down the phone and rang off. She sat quietly for a few moments, drying her eyes with a tissue, blowing her nose and taking some very deep breaths to compose herself and gather her thoughts anew. She understood exactly what Cook needed from her. She just wasn't sure if she would have the mental strength to see it through and deliver.

Naomi knew it was a pointless waste of precious energy trying to break loose from the handcuffs but nevertheless she gave it yet another go as if she harboured genuine belief that they would suddenly and magically disintegrate through sheer force of will into powder and dust, leaving her free to contemplate some great escape from her hideous prison confinement. She'd had no luck every time she had frantically attempted to free her hands but she simply wouldn't allow herself to just lie still on the bed, meekly accept her fate and patiently await her tormentor's next visit. She was still afraid of him, of course she was, but this overwhelming fear, this unspeakable terror at what he might be planning to do with her had been replaced with an overriding feeling of anger and outrage ever since he had removed the masking tape from her mouth and they had had their first proper conversation. She could still remember with an involuntary shudder word for word their first exchanges in the dark, dimly lit room with him holding a wickedly gleaming knife hard against her throat.

'You!' she had cried, whilst gratefully sucking in the air, such as it was, from the heavy atmosphere of the room and taking large gulps to catch her breath which had been almost taken away from her with the shock of her discovery. She shook her head in disbelief and would have added more but she was interrupted before she could express her complete and utter astonishment any further

'Yes, it's me. Don't look so surprised, Naomi. Surely you must have known it was me all along. Who else could it have been? Who else could have loved you as much as I do?'

'Love?' Naomi almost spat out the word into his face in contempt but she was all too conscious of the knife poised terrifyingly at her throat. 'You call _this _love? How can you say you love someone when you have a knife at their throat? When you've kidnapped them and imprisoned them in this….this hellhole and taken them away from the people they really love?'

'Oh, but I do love you, Naomi, ' he whispered with a smile which though seemingly sincere still succeeded in sending a shiver right up Naomi's spine and made her shrink back from him in disgust and disbelief. 'You see, I've loved you from the first time I saw you. It took me three months to pluck up the courage to speak to you. And then, when I was finally brave enough to try my luck, when I asked you out on a date, well, you soon put paid to that, didn't you? You weren't interested, were you? You knocked me back straight away, gave me the brush off. You wouldn't even give me a chance.'

'I'm already in love with someone else,' said Naomi, looking right into his now unsmiling eyes, fearful of his reaction to her bold, confident assertion but determined nonetheless to stand up for herself and tell him how it was. 'I'm sorry, but it's the truth,' she added, judging that an apology, however insincere it might have sounded, might placate him a while and cut short any potential act of retribution he might have been tempted to inflict on her.

'Yes, I realise that now. I just wasn't your type, was I? I wasn't the sort of person you'd go for, was I, Naomi? Basically, I wasn't a girl.'

'No.' Naomi shook her head and took a deep breath. She wondered how long this soul-searching, this pathetic attempt at self-justification was going to go on for. She knew she had to play along with it to some extent although she would flatly refuse to deny the truth of her feelings for Emily and her reasons for giving him the cold shoulder, however much it might hurt his fragile sensitivities and self-importance.

'No. I lost out to a silly, small, redheaded _girl,_ didn't I? Have you any idea how that felt? Have you the faintest idea how much that hurt, how humiliating that felt?'

Naomi shook her head and bit her lip to conceal her anxiety that he might be on the point of exploding with rage and think about using that frightening-looking knife he was still holding to her throat and waving around just inches away from her face as his anger gathered momentum.

'I mean, it would have been bad enough to have lost out to some good-lucking guy with far more going for him than me. But to have been turned down because you were in love with another girl! That really took the biscuit, that did. Once I found out about you and your little 'friend' well, there was no going back, was there? You'd seen to that, hadn't you? I had to try and move on, try and forget about you…' He paused and looked away for the first time since he had been speaking to her, gazing off into the dark shadows of the room for a few moments before continuing, his voice sounding softer and more controlled again, like it was at the beginning. 'Only that didn't work either. I couldn't forget about you, however much I tried.'

'Look, I'm sorry I couldn't love you the way you wanted me to but it wasn't my fault – or even yours. I just met Emily first- and fell in love with her. It wasn't anything to do with _you. _I would have said exactly the same to any guy who would have asked me out. I was in love with someone else and the fact that it happened to be another girl is beside the point.'

'Is that supposed to make me feel better, Naomi?'

'No. I'm just telling you the truth.'

'The truth hurts, Naomi. It always does. That's been the story of my life, you know. The truth has always ruined my life, always made a mess of it. Whenever I've tried to run away from it, it's always managed to catch me up at some point or other.'

'Why did you kill those girls? What had they done to you if it was me that had rejected you?' She had been dying to know the answer to that puzzle from the moment they had started talking and couldn't hold back from asking the question any longer.

'They were just as bad as you. They didn't want to know me. They told me they weren't interested, told me to piss off. They laughed in my face, Naomi! They rejected me, just like you did! I wasn't going to stand for that. I wasn't going to let them get away with that without punishment. I made those girls pay for that rejection. Besides, they weren't as beautiful as you. They weren't fit to lace your boots. I needed you to see that., I needed you to know they weren't in the same league as you.. But I wanted you to see what you'd made me do. I wanted you to realise what you'd forced me to become.'

'You can't blame me for that!' said Naomi, horrified by what he had just said. She felt like she was going to throw up, the way he was attempting to put the blame for those girls' deaths on her. She couldn't bear the idea that these girls had all been brutally murdered by him as some ridiculous, pathetic act of revenge against her perfectly understandable actions.

'Oh, but I can, Naomi. I do. None of this would have happened if you had just said yes. That's all it would have taken. Just a simple yes and I would have been so happy. I would have had the chance to show you how much I loved you. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, could you? That silly, stupid redhead had got into your head, hadn't she, and twisted your mind?'

The two of them fell silent and Naomi choked back the tears as she lay shaking, waiting for his next irrational rant or his next nauseatingly lovesick delusion.

The armed response team were all in place outside the known address of the postman known as David Mitchell. Straw and Blunt had taken up their positions and were in direct communication with the head of that team. No-one was to make a move until Straw gave the word. Armed officers had been sent round the back of the house and the rest were out the front with Straw and his men, all poised ready and waiting for the command signal. At a nod from Straw, one of his men suitably protected by a bullet-proof jacket which he was wearing underneath his jacket, stepped forward and walked up to the garden gate, pushed it open and strode confidently up to the front door. When he got there, he took a deep breath and looked round for Straw's nod of the head to indicate he should go ahead and ring the bell. Fingers tightened on the triggers of the police guns, eyes looked down the sights with cold, steely concentration and cheeks were puffed out as the nerves kicked in and the rush of adrenaline coursed through every vein of each officer present. These were the moments they lived for, this was the kind of high-pressure cooker situation they had endured years of training to prepare for. This was what it was all about. Game on! The officer stretched out an arm, pressed the front door bell and waited nervously for his call to be answered.

Cook had been sitting in the car across the road from the house for some two or three minutes mulling over in his mind what to do. Should he sneak round the back of the house and look for a way in? Maybe there would be an open window somewhere which he would be able to climb up and in through and gain entry secretly to the house without the occupiers hearing him. It wasn't as if he was short of experience of house-breaking. He'd had quite a bit of success in his time and he was confident that he could climb up any drainpipe, any ivy, anything at all in fact and get in to the house through any open window.

BUT WAS THAT REALLY THE BEST PLAN! What if Mr evil, sadistic bastard heard him? That would spell curtains for Naomi, for sure. He couldn't take a chance with Naomi's life. Emily would never forgive him if he went blundering in like an idiot and alerted Chummy to his presence, forcing Postie to kill Naomikins before he was ready to. Besides, he had to be sure that Naomi was alive first. Maybe on reflection it would be wiser to take a more laid back, casual, unthreatening approach in order to check the guy out to see how nervous or guilty he looked, see the lie of the land, gain entry to his gaffe for some perfectly innocent and plausible reason which wouldn't arouse his suspicions but which would enable him to have a nose around on the quiet.

Suddenly an idea came to him. He backed the car about fifty yards down the road, got out and walked back up the road and up to the front door. He looked up at the windows but couldn't see any sign of life. There were no lights showing and he wondered whether this was really the right place but the inside information he had been given was supposed to be good. He puffed out his cheeks, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, his mind racing through the spiel he had thought up to gain access into the house without causing undue suspicion. He waited nervously as he heard footsteps approach the front door.

**AUTHOR'S MESSAGE**

I hope you have enjoyed the dramatic events of the last few chapters. I can assure you that even though we are approaching the final few chapters there are still a few surprises left in store including one huge twist in the tail right at the very end which I hope you will all like so do hang in there right to the end. I would love to hear your comments and ideas on how you think the drama will (or even should) unfold and maybe what you think the big twist might be! I'm looking forward to reading your suggestions


	28. Chapter 28

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Cook phones Emily who tells him they think it's the postman who has abducted Naomi. Cook promises Emily he knows he can find out where the guy lives and will bring Naomi back to her alive. Naomi is shocked to recognise that it's her postman who has abducted her. He unties her at knife point and talks to her for a while, telling her how much he loves her and that if she hadn't rejected his advances he wouldn't have killed any of the other girls. An armed police response team and Cook are both outside two different addresses, ringing on the doorbell and waiting to see if anyone will answer the door.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: MAN ABOUT THE HOUSE**

There had been no response to the first press of the front door bell so the officer tried a second time on the instructions of his commanding officer in his earpiece. Tensions seemed to be heightened after the first no-result and the fingers resting lightly on the triggers started twitching imperceptibly as the sounds of deep breathing and nervous licking of lips could almost be heard through the heavy, portentous atmosphere. Still there was no sound of approaching footsteps, no obvious sign of any life whatsoever inside the place at all.

'Do you think he's spotted us coming, gov?' asked Blunt anxiously as she crouched down next to the DI a suitably safe distance away from the front line of the action.

'I don't know. I doubt it. Maybe he's hoping whoever's at the door will give up and go away. If we don't get an answer soon, we've got no choice but to go in.'

The hapless officer at the front door turned round and looked across at his guvnor, pleading for a sign as to what to do next. His mission to get the occupant to come to the front door and open it appeared to be over. It had proved to be no more than a disappointing failure, a total no-show. It left him personally frustrated that he had been unable to play a meaningful part in the operation. He had been so looking forward to telling all his mates about the pivotal role he had played in catching the serial killer. He had planned on dining out on his Andy Warhol fifteen minutes of fame for a long time and was looking forward to all the free drinks he was bound to be getting as he embellished his story to such a degree that it had been he who had almost single-handedly saved the young girl from the clutches of this dangerous psycho maniac. Now he would have to return to his humdrum existence without any glory story to boost his reputation and make him stand out from the crowd.

DI Straw let out a heavy sigh of disappointment and irritation as he went through in his mind all the options available to them at breakneck speed before reaching the inescapable conclusion that they had to break into the place without any further delay. The girl might already be dead or dying, that was always a possibility, but if she was still alive then they had to act fast and take their chances that he wouldn't get to her before one of his armed team of officers. There was no evidence to suggest that this guy possessed a gun. He hadn't shot any of his victims so Straw was counting on the fact that he wouldn't have a weapon that he could use on his officers. What he was most afraid of was that he would try to use Naomi as a shield, that he would challenge them to take him out without harming Naomi in any way. Things could turn quite nasty if he was prepared to hide behind her in order to fight for his life and freedom. But that was the risk he had to take and he was prepared to take the consequences.

He brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and after a brief moment's hesitation he spoke calmly and authoritatively to the head of the armed response unit who would only give the word to make a move on Straw's express command. 'Let's get inside,' he said. 'But NO firing unless he starts shooting or until we know the girl is safe. Understood?'

Straw looked at DS Blunt and she returned his steely gaze with a nod of approval and support. She recognised he had no choice but to order the team to go in. She was mentally crossing her fingers that they weren't too late and prayed that they might succeed in taking the killer completely by surprise and overpower him before he had a chance to get to Naomi. The armed response team were understandably a well-drilled and frighteningly clinical unit who knew exactly what they were doing. They had been involved in countless similar operations and it was all in a day's work to them, just another job to carry out with ruthless precision and calm efficiency. Each man knew his individual responsibility and on the command of their head of operations they all sprang into action.

It was a thing of savage beauty, Blunt had to admit as she observed them line up in formations of twos and threes, approach the front door in military-style fashion before two of the armed officers, on the command of 'Lose that door!', effortlessly kicked the door open in a matter of seconds with a brutality and ferocity that would have taken her breath away if she hadn't already seen them do it many times before. Within seconds the rest of the team had followed the first two men into the house and that was the cue for Straw and Blunt to make their way hurriedly after them, anxiously straining to hear the voices of the armed officers ahead of them who would be shouting out their strict commands and warnings to any of the occupants whom they might come across as they methodically searched every room in the house.

Two minutes later the team had gone through the whole place and had found no-one anywhere, no homicidal maniac cowering under the stairs, no terrified platinum blonde young girl bound and gagged, indeed no signs of any description that the place had been recently lived in at all. It was a massive anti-climax not to mention a crushing body blow to DI Straw and DS Blunt who looked at each other in disbelief and dejection.

'So where the fuck is he, then? Where's the little shit taken her?' Straw swore, his anger threatening to explode like a volcanic eruption as he contemplated having to start all over again from scratch in the knowledge that they were fast running out of time to save Naomi. 'Have we got the right guy, Blunt?'

'Emily was convinced this was the guy Katie was trying to tell us about,' she replied but with far less conviction than she had felt earlier on in the evening. 'Maybe he's holding her some place else. Somewhere we haven't found out about yet.'

'Get Cathy to find out all we can about this guy. I want to know chapter and verse about him. Family, friends, work, everything! I want to know his fucking life story. There's got to be something that will tell us where he's taken Naomi. If he's not here, then where else is he likely to be? Come on, let's get to work on it. Now!

Dave Mitchell was in a foul mood by the time he had reached the top of the stairs and this anger and irritation was only exacerbated by the sound of his father urgently calling out his name from his bedroom at the back of the house. For fuck's sake! What did your last slave die of? He didn't dare upset his frail old Dad by putting his thoughts into words but he was losing patience with the stupid old duffer. He got irrationally anxious and frightened every time anyone rang the bell as if he was terrified that his son had finally taken the plunge and had called in the men in white coats to cart him away and stick him in a home or a mental hospital. Chance would be a fine thing, he thought. If only I could afford it, I would have done it years ago.

He was furious that someone had turned up at the door to interrupt him while he was in full flow with Naomi. He was really enjoying his conversation with her, revelling in seeing how scared she was of him and feeling the warm glow of satisfaction at the power he was exerting over her coursing through his veins. He was amazed to find he was getting even more turned on by this sense of power and domination than by the actual sexual thrill of having the stunningly beautiful young girl lying inches away from him, utterly helpless to resist his charms and advances. Not that he was ready to go there just yet. He wanted to spend more time talking with her first. He needed to smell her intoxicating fear, breathe into his lungs huge mouthfuls of her awe and wonder at his superiority and work some more on making her totally compliant and submissive to his demands.

Now all that fun and games had been rudely interrupted by some tosser ringing at the door. After quietening down the increasingly deranged yelling from his father with a few well-chosen, though harshly delivered words of comfort which reassured the old guy that his son was there after all to see who it was, David went over to the front door and peered through the tiny peep hole in the middle of the door. He was relieved to see that it wasn't the police - or at least to discover that it was some strange guy who looked nothing like a plain-clothed copper – and so he opened the door, not fully but just enough to have a good look at whoever was standing on the door step and exchange a few words with him.

'Hi there,' said Cook as the door was slowly opened and a young guy's face appeared from behind it and glared at him angrily and suspiciously as if Cook had just woken him up from a deep sleep and he had better have a bloody good explanation for dragging him all the way to the front door at this unearthly time of day. 'Look, mate, I'm sorry to bother you at this time of night but my car's just broken down a hundred yards down the road. And of course it's bloody typical that my mobile's ran out of juice so I can't phone for help'

'So? How can I help?' asked Mitchell coolly, without opening the door any wider or giving even the merest hint of a sign of sympathy or understanding for Cook's imaginary plight.

'Well, I'd be really grateful if I could use your phone to call the AA and get them out here to help me get the car back on the road. I mean, it's a bit out in the sticks here, innit and your place was the first house I came to. You'd be doing me a big favour, you know, mate.'

Mitchell stared at Cook who looked back at him with what he hoped came across as an expression of real concern and a polite plea for assistance for a fellow human being in need. The guy seemed genuine enough, thought Mitchell but he was just about to mumble some feeble excuse about it not being a good time, what with him being preoccupied with caring for his sick Dad and stuff when Cook must have sensed from the guy's body language and expression that some resistance to his request was on its way and decided to push the boat out and turn on a major charm offensive.

'Please, mate. I'd do the same for you if it was your car that had broken down outside my gaffe. If I turn up late at my girlfriend's, she's going to give me such fucking earache you wouldn't believe, I'm telling you. Us guys have got to stick together, haven't we? We can't give the women a chance to give us more grief, can we?'

Mitchell couldn't help breaking out into a smile at Cook's explanation for his obvious concern. So here's another pathetic weak bastard who lets a woman rule his life for him. Another sad case totally under the thumb of some bossy female. What a wimp! Still, I suppose you've gotta feel sorry for him. It can't be easy always having to be at her beck and call night and day. Guess I'd better help him or else this girlfriend of his will have put one over us guys yet again.

'Okay, you can come in for a moment and make your call, I suppose.'

'Oh, cheers, mate, you're a star!' Cook gave his best cheesy, grateful grin and moved forward into the house past Mitchell who had opened the door wider and stepped aside, inviting Cook to enter with a gesture of his hand. As soon as he was inside Cook was all eyes and ears, taking in every square inch of the house he could see and straining his ears to listen for the slightest sound that might indicate a girl crying out for help or struggling to get free from her state of imprisonment.

============================================================.

'Gov! I think we've got something!' Cathy's voice betrayed a barely controlled excitement as she came over to Straw and Blunt who were surveying the team hard at work and talking to each other in low tones. 'What is it?' they asked in unison.

'David Mitchell's father lives on his own in a remote village a few miles outside of town. There's no mother. Apparently she left the family some years ago, ran off with one of his father's best friends so rumour has it. We've just spoken to his mate Mark, you know, the guy we pulled in some time back. He reckons Dave's spends quite a lot of time over at his Dad's looking after him. He's got Alzheimer's, apparently.'

'He could have taken Naomi there, couldn't he? He could be keeping her locked up in some room or other out of sight and sound from his Dad.' Blunt looked up at Straw and could see he was thinking the same thing as she was.

Straw nodded pensively. 'His father's probably bed-ridden and far too sick to have any idea what his son's getting up to in the house. Mitchell could come and go as he pleased without his father having a clue about any of it. Right! Let's hope to God we've got it right this time. This could be our last hope of saving Naomi. Get everyone ready to go like before. Only this time, make sure the armed response hang well back. We need to take this a bit more carefully. We don't want the thing to end in a bloodbath. If his sick father's there with him as well as Naomi, there are even more lives at risk.'

Naomi was so relieved when the postman left the room effing and blinding that she didn't even protest that much when he slipped the masking tape back over her mouth before he disappeared. As uncomfortable and unpleasant as it was as a constant symbol and reminder of the domination he was exerting over her, it was by a distance preferable to him staying with her any longer and making her shiver and shake with his ever creepy, increasingly pervy and chillingly scary presence. She felt like throwing up whenever he touched her hair or stroked her face but she knew to do so would betray her fear. She was determined not to give him the slightest satisfaction of seeing her frightened of him if she could possibly help it.

She choked back the tears of helplessness and frustration as she squirmed and writhed in yet another fruitless attempt to extricate herself from her chains but to no avail. He had made it physically impossible for her to escape from this imprisonment left to her own devices. She knew her only chance of escape would be if she could persuade him to untie her from the bed and for that to happen Naomi understood that she would have to agree to the unthinkable. She would have to let him have sex with her and that image alone was almost enough to bring her out in another cold sweat and made her think of Emily and how she would feel about that.

Surely Emily would understand she had to give in to him as the only way she could see of staying alive or trying to escape? But what if Emily were to think she had given in to him too easily? What if Emily would have expected her to put up more resistance, to have fought tooth and nail to prevent the sick bastard from having his evil way with her? What would she have expected Emily to have done if the roles had been reversed? How would she have felt in that situation? She didn't need to consider the question very long. Instinctively Naomi knew she would have been just eternally thankful that Emily had got out of this terrifying situation alive. She wouldn't have cared one iota if the postman had had sex with her – after all, Emily being alive and safe was what would have really mattered, not the fact that she'd been forced to have sex with her abductor for fear of being killed otherwise. Better to have been screwed alive than murdered. Besides, she wouldn't have put it past that sicko to screw her _after_ he had killed her, so what would be the point in putting up a fight?

She wondered what Emily was doing right then and whether she was coping with the shock news of her abduction. Naomi couldn't imagine the depths of despair and terror-stricken anguish she would be feeling if it had been Emily who was lying where she was at that moment. She would have going completely off her head with worry and it was crucifying her to imagine Emily suffering the same torments and tortures as she would have been in her position. She tried to cheer herself up by thinking of some of the wonderful times they had shared together over the past couple of years but all it seemed to do was increase her longing to be free from this living hell and be back with her again. She absolutely refused to countenance the idea that she would never see her again. That was unthinkable and she simply refused to believe it could happen for a second.

Somebody was bound to come to her rescue eventually, she told herself sternly. The police weren't fools, after all. Well okay, maybe DC Sweeney was but the rest of them couldn't be as dumb as him. DI Straw and DS Blunt were no mugs , that much she had been able to ascertain at close quarters on numerous occasions and Cathy would be utterly distraught at not having been able to prevent her form being snatched away from right under her nose and was bound to be pulling out all the stops to help find her and save her. No, they WOULD track her down, she was convinced of that. Her job in all this was to find ways of staying alive long enough to give the cops time to find her. She needed to use all her ingenuity, all her cunning and above all female intuition to outwit the postman and put off any thoughts he might have of killing her just yet. She could see he was a twisted, sick, pathetic individual. She might be able to play on his obvious lack of self-worth, his feelings of inadequacy and inferiority when it came to women and his delusions of power and authority to weaken his resolve. She had to give it a try, at any rate.

There was no point in just lying on the bed, waiting to be raped, killed or whatever else the sick pervert had in mind. She had to fight back – but intelligently, thoughtfully, with cunning, imagination and resourcefulness. As these plans and ideas were swirling around in her head, she felt her eyes grow heavy and she closed them for a while, as if trying to block out from her mind the seemingly hopeless situation she was in would put her in a better mental place with which to attempt this subtle struggle for freedom and life that would soon be upon her. She assumed she must have nodded off at some point because she realised to her astonishment on waking up suddenly that she must have been dreaming of Cook, of all the people to have been thinking about at a time like that. What on earth could have made her think of him?

'Did you get through to them?' asked Dave Mitchell who had been pointedly waiting in the corridor whilst Cook was making his call to the AA.

'Eventually!' said Cook, raising his eyebrows in mock irritation and pulling a face of relief. He had of course not phoned the AA at all but instead had dialled the number of the police station and had pretended to be talking to the AA, asking for urgent breakdown assistance and giving the name of the road which Dave Mitchell had told him, albeit somewhat reluctantly at first. He had racked his brains when dreaming up this plan to think of what he should say if the guy agreed to let him make a phone call and he reckoned the best thing would be to give his own name and hope that this would alert the police to send a car out to check up on him. He knew that could spell danger for him if this guy turned out to be completely innocent and harmless but it was a risk he was prepared to take. He had confidence that he could make his escape without the cops catching him even if it meant losing them in a car chase across country. In fact he was almost looking forward to that if it should come about.

'They said they'll be here as soon as they can but it could be at least half an hour. I don't suppose I could wait here until they come, could I mate? It's brass monkey weather outside. I won't get in your way, I promise. I'll just sit here and wait. You carry on and do your own thing. I'll be no trouble.'

Dave Mitchell was staring at him hard while he was giving him all that flannel and seemed to be deep in silent thought. 'Haven't I seen you somewhere before?' he said eventually, not moving from his position by the door to the living room.

Cook's heart missed a few beats as he tried to return Mitchell's gaze with a casual glance. 'No. I don't think so, mate. I'm sure I would have remembered you if I had. I never forget a face.'

'I'm sure I've seen you around somewhere.'

'Well, I suppose you might have done. I mean, I'm out and about town quite a lot. You know, in the pubs and clubs all the time. Maybe you've seen me there at some point. But I definitely don't remember having seen you. Besides, I've got one of those faces that looks like a lot of people'

Mitchell seemed unconvinced by Cook's explanation and his right hand which was dug deep into his trouser pocket seemed to delve a little deeper which Cook noticed out of the corner of his eye. He looked across at Mitchell with a smile and could see him shifting uncomfortably on his feet, eyes fixed chillingly on Cook as she was weighing up in his mind what to do next. Cook rose gently to his feet and blew into his cupped hands, anxious to change the subject quickly.

'Jesus! It sure as hell is freezing tonight. Do you mind if I use your toilet, mate? I've been bursting to go for the last half hour.'

'It doesn't flush properly,' said Mitchell. 'I'm waiting for the plumber to come and have a look at it.'

'It's okay, I only need a piss. Only, if I don't go right now, I might end up pissing all over your nice carpet and I wouldn't want to do that. I'm in agony mate, believe me. I'll only be a minute. Is it upstairs?'

He walked calmly across the room towards Mitchell with a pained expression on his face to demonstrate how much he was suffering from a heavy bladder and was mightily relieved to see Mitchell stand aside and let him pass. 'It's upstairs, second door on the left.'

Cook thanked him profusely and scampered up the stairs, not daring to turn his head to check if the guy was watching him all the way up or worse, following him up the stairs. He made for the appointed door, opened it and went inside, making a show of closing the door noisily behind him. Once inside he let out a huge sigh of relief and looked around him. It was an unremarkable toilet but the thing he was interested in was the window which was a decent size and certainly big enough for him to climb into or out of if need be. He opened it, letting in the freezing cold air which made him shiver and he turned back towards the door and put his ear to it, listening intently for any sounds of footsteps. Satisfied that he could hear nothing, he slowly and carefully pulled down the handle and pushed the door just an inch or two open and peered out.

There appeared to be no sign of the guy on the landing so he swiftly and noiselessly passed out into the landing, closing the door behind him and started opening up all the doors to the other rooms off the landing in turn and peeping inside. He guessed that if Naomi was being held here it wouldn't be downstairs on the ground floor but somewhere upstairs in one of the bedrooms. But his lightening search of all the rooms revealed nothing of any interest, certainly no crying damsel in distress. It looked as if he had drawn a blank. Maybe they'd got the wrong guy after all. Sure this bloke came over as very shifty and more than a bit weird but there was no sign so far that he was holding Naomi locked up and tied and bound in some dreadful dark room. He was just about to give up and return downstairs when the doorbell ring. He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Mitchell firstly swear very loudly and violently and then another male voice shout out in a panic.

This came as a complete shock to him, as he hadn't realised that there was another male in the house. He wondered whether he should calmly walk down the stairs to see how the guy would deal with the visitor at the front door or hang back on the landing and wait to see if the guy would ignore the ring and come running upstairs to find out why he was taking so long to have a piss. The doorbell rang a second time and the shouting started again. Cook hovered on the dimly lit landing, caught in two minds, breathing as silently as possible, his eyes fixed on the stairs and listening out for the sound of footsteps, the direction of which would determine his next course of action.

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	29. Chapter 29

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: The police turn up at the postman's address but find it completely empty. Cook uses the excuse that his car has broken down to persuade Dave Mitchell to let him inside the house. The police discover that the postman has a father who lives out in the countryside and they all pile over to see if he's hiding Naomi there. Cook pretends he needs a pee to go upstairs and peep into all the bedrooms but doesn't find Naomi. While still on the upstairs landing Cook hears the doorbell ring and decides to stay there and wait to see who Mitchell opens the door to.

.-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: CAT AND MOUSE**

The urgency and insistence of the ringing of the door bell and the loud authoritative shouting coming from behind the door left David Mitchell in no doubt as to who had decided to pay him a visit. It had to be the police. It couldn't be anyone else and he knew he had to act as fast as lightening if he was to get out of this ostensibly awkward, indeed damned tricky situation without being caught or, even worse, killed. He was very conscious that this suspicious stranger whom he could have sworn he had seen somewhere before was still lurking around upstairs having a slash in the pisser. He'd had a bad feeling about him from the moment he had let him into the house but at that very moment this guy with the weak bladder and the broken down car outside represented a far lesser threat to his freedom than the hordes of policemen who were doubtless congregating outside the house and threatening to take the door off its hinges.

He flew down the stairs to the cellar, ignoring the increasingly terrified cries of his father from the back bedroom, tore along the short corridor and unlocked the bedroom. When he was inside he rushed over to where a panic-stricken Naomi was stretched out on the bed, frantically pulling and tugging at the handcuffs and restraints that had secured her hands and legs. She had guessed something mega was going on what with the noise of all the pandemonium upstairs that had been filtering down to her and was making a last desperate yet fruitless attempt to free herself before God knows what began to kick off.

His heart was pumping the blood to his head at the rate of knots as he willed himself to remain calm and focused on the job he knew he had to do. A minute later Naomi was released from the handcuffs which had chained her to the bed for the last few miserable hours but her joy and relief were cruelly short-lived as Mitchell skilfully re-bound her arms behind her back with some heavy string. The gleaming knife that he menacingly held to Naomi's throat with an evil glint in his eyes warned her off even thinking about trying to put up a struggle or making a sudden dash for freedom the second he had released her from her restraints. He kept the masking tape in place and as soon as he was satisfied that her arms were securely bound behind her back and she presented no serious risk to him he roughly helped the frightened blonde to her feet and pushed her in front of him towards the door.

It had been some time since Naomi had registered any feeling in her feet and legs and so she stumbled at first in the darkness, finding it difficult to keep her balance, particularly without the use of her arms to steady her as a natural form of equilibrium. Mitchell was in no mood to give her time to get used to walking again and hurriedly pushed her in front of him, still keeping the sharp knife close to her throat as a constant warning not to try any funny business. He pushed her out into the corridor quickly along it and then up the stairs in a matter of a few seconds. They had just made it to the top and out into the passage way leading to the hall when suddenly the front door burst open with a deafening crack and two uniformed coppers came in through the doorway, swiftly followed by DI Straw, DS Blunt and three other members of Straw's murder squad, all of whom stopped dead in their tracks as soon as they caught sight of Mitchell standing about ten feet away from them, with one arm held tightly around Naomi's waist and an evil looking knife pressed up tight against her trembling, pale, horribly exposed throat

As soon as Cook heard all the shouting, banging and thumping on the front door he guessed it had to be the police and instinctively he hung back from the top of the stairs, mind ticking over furiously wondering what his next step should be. So deep in thought was he that he wasn't even aware that Mitchell had flown down the steps to the cellar and had temporarily left him alone in the main part of the house. Had he realised what Mitchell was doing he could have sprung into action, raced down the stairs, opened the front door and let the police in to the house before Mitchell could have got back up from the cellar. But even if he had been aware it's highly doubtful that would have been his chosen course of action in any case.

As much as he was desperate to save Naomi's life and deliver on his promise to Emily, he wasn't an entirely reckless and brainless individual and furthermore he still possessed a strongly-honed sense of self-preservation. If the cavalry had indeed arrived, surely they were far better equipped to deal with the situation than he was. They would be armed, or at least enough of them would be to take out this sadistic maniac if need be. He, on the other hand had nothing with which to defend himself from any threat on his life except his cunning, ingenuity and resourcefulness, none of which had a terribly good record of success when faced with the barrel of a gun or the blade of a knife.

Besides which, he told himself as he stood on the landing pressed hard against the toilet door, hand poised over the handle ready to press it down and take refuge inside, what if the police mistook him for Mitchell and overpowered him, forcing him to his knees at gunpoint? What if they shot first and asked questions later? It wouldn't be the first time a tragic case of mistaken identity had ended in the fatal killing of an ordinary, innocent member of the public. Not that Cook could reasonably describe himself as wholly innocent of any criminal misdemeanours but he certainly wasn't guilty of this one. But would the police marksman with the slightly itchy trigger finger know that once he saw him standing in the killer's house? He wouldn't have wanted to stake his life on it.

No, if he wanted to keep his own freedom and life intact it would be better to take a back seat until the innocence or guilt of this Mitchell guy was established beyond any reasonable doubt. If he judged it expedient to leg it through the bathroom window yet again to evade the clutches of the Bristol constabulary, then he wouldn't shrink from doing so provided he was sure that either Naomi wasn't in the house or had been saved by the police if she was. But as he stood on the landing, holding his breath, not daring to move a muscle for fear that one unintentional creak of a floorboard or one inopportune sneeze might betray his presence with catastrophic consequences, he listened with ears fully cocked and eyes narrowed in concentration to the extraordinary events and conversations that were to play out below him.

'Don't come any closer or I'll kill her!' shouted David Mitchell, his hold on Naomi's waist tightening instinctively as he pressed the point of the terrifyingly sharp blade of the knife up against the middle of Naomi's throat. DI Straw could see the poor girl was swallowing hard to control her complete terror and her eyes were bulging wide, pleading silently for him not to do anything stupid which would provoke her abductor into sinking the steely blade into her throat.

'Take it easy, David,' said Straw softly, holding both hands palms first out in front of him in a calming, placatory gesture designed to indicate to Mitchell that they recognised that he was in control of the situation and they weren't going to make any sudden moves which might unnerve him and precipitate any rash action on his part. 'We just want to talk, that's all. We're not going to hurt you, I promise you.'

'Oh, yeah, of course you won't,' scoffed Mitchell with a chilling snigger which sent a shiver up DS Blunt's back and made her doubt whether they would succeed in getting out of this situation without any loss of blood.

'We're not interested in you, David, only Naomi. We just want to find a way of getting Naomi out of this mess alive and well, that's all. She's our only concern right now.' Straw was speaking very slowly and deliberately, in as calm and casual a voice as he could muster given the precariousness of the dilemma he was facing. He desperately wanted to avoid making Mitchell feel threatened and nervous so he was making a conscious effort not to raise his voice or sound angry as his mind was working like the clappers to appraise his next few words and his next vital move.

'Tell all your men to back off or I'll kill her! Go on! I want them all out of the house. Now!' His face had begun to contort into a twisted snarl as he waved the gleaming blade ever closer to Naomi's terrified face and Straw realised he had no option but to accede to his request. He turned round and ordered everyone to get out of the house except Blunt whom he wanted to stay with him. He knew her input could be vital in getting Mitchell to calm down and in helping him to talk the young lad round into giving himself up. The officers knew better than to disobey Straw's orders and albeit with considerable reluctance and after exchanging some uncertain glances amongst themselves they turned round and went out through the front door, shutting it behind them.

'David! David! What's going on? Who are you talking to?'

Straw and Blunt looked with astonished expressions over in the direction of where this new voice had come from and then glanced at Mitchell closely to see his reaction to this unexpected interruption. Who was this other person in the house? Straw wondered if the existence of a third party to witness the unholy mess Mitchell had got himself into might perhaps give them a ray of hope that they might be able to persuade Mitchell that the situation was hopeless and not to make it any worse for the sake of this other person who Straw guessed had to be a relative of some kind.

'It's okay, Dad. There's nothing to worry about. Some people have just called to see me. Don't get yourself all worked up. Everything's fine.'

'Come on, David,' said Blunt, seizing the opportunity to try to appeal to Mitchell's family ties and sensibilities. 'You don't want to get your father mixed up in all this, do you? You don't want him to see what you're doing to poor Naomi, surely. Think of him, David. Why not give yourself up before he comes out and sees all this?'

'Him? He's not going anywhere! He's been virtually bed-ridden for the last six months. He hasn't got long to live anyway, the pathetic, spineless tosser.'

'He's your father, David,' pleaded Blunt, injecting a tone of compassion and sensitivity into her voice. 'Why would you want to upset him like this?' Blunt stole a furtive glance at Straw who nodded imperceptibly to encourage her to continue with this line of approach with Mitchell. Straw doubted that this nasty, ruthless serial killer had many, if any, feelings of compassion or mercy with regard to any human being but it was worth a try, he supposed. Anything to take his mind off the knife he was holding at Naomi's throat.

'He's been no father to me. If he'd been a proper Dad he wouldn't have let Mum walk out on us. He always was weak and feeble. He didn't have the guts to fight for her to stay and then when she left he just fell apart. If I hadn't looked after him, he'd have died years ago.'

'But if you harm Naomi now, that'll make your father feel even worse, David. That could finish him off for good. Think of him, David. He doesn't deserve that.' Blunt's voice had taken on an almost beseeching, plaintiff quality as she sought to play on Mitchell's emotions as she could see he had got quite worked up talking about his mother. However just as her hopes were beginning to rise that he might have mellowed a touch and his anger and rage had been replaced by a kind of wistfulness and tearful sadness, his attention momentarily taken away from Naomi and their own presence in his house, he seemed to snap out of his reveries with a chilling brutality.

'I know what your game is, you bastards! You're trying to confuse me. You're just playing for time – only you haven't got any time left. I want you to tell all your men to fuck off out of here. I want them all to get back into their cars and drive away back into town. Do it!'

Straw held up his hand to calm Mitchell down. 'Okay, David, it's okay. Calm down. I'm getting my phone out to do it now. Juts watch me carefully.' He took out his mobile from his overcoat pocket and made a brief call to one of the murder team, instructing him to get all the officers back in their cars and drive well away from the scene. Obviously he encountered some form of incredulous protest because he was forced to repeat his orders more forcefully to get his message across. 'Don't argue! Just do it, do you hear me? I'll take full responsibility, okay? Just get everyone out of here, understand?'

'Okay, David. You heard me give the orders, didn't you? They're leaving right now. The place will be deserted outside in less than a minute. Satisfied?'

Mitchell nodded silently and looked around, as if searching for inspiration for his next move. The knife was still at Naomi's throat and DS Blunt saw the young girl was breathing heavily and had closed her eyes as if to block out the nightmare of what was happening to her. 'Why don't you let Naomi go, David? She hasn't done anything to hurt you, has she? She's just another innocent girl caught up in this sad, sad mess.'

'How would you know? You don't know anything! She rejected me! I could have loved her but she wouldn't give me the time of day! She laughed in my face, just like all those other girls did. But I soon took the smiles off their faces, didn't I? They can't knock me back any more, now, can they?'

Mitchell began chortling and chuckling and the sight of him laughing himself into near hysteria, as a glazed expression came over his face, filled Straw with fury and revulsion which he fought hard to conceal from Mitchell. He was so tempted to lurch forward with a sudden quick movement and take the sick bastard by surprise, reach for the hand that was holding the knife to Naomi's throat and force him to drop it. But he knew that it was too big a risk to take. This was a situation that demanded that the police played the percentages game and not gamble with a young girl's life. Not just yet, anyway. The game wasn't over, not by a long chalk. They still weren't quite in the last chance saloon.

'Okay, David, what now? Where do we go from here? I've done everything you wanted so far. How are we going to get you out of this mess?' DI Straw looked Mitchell calmly straight in the eyes, searching for a glimmer of confusion, uncertainty or even desperation to give him hope that the young guy's resolve might be weakening. Instead the DI saw only coldness in his expression, a dark pool of emptiness in his eyes and an indifference to the detective's subtle attempts to appease and placate him.

'You!' he cried out, nodding at DS Blunt, 'Take my van keys down there,' he said, pointing with his knife-wielding at a set of car keys lying on the table which was situated against the wall behind the front door. 'Go and start up the van and leave the keys in the ignition. No funny business, mind. If you're not back in thirty seconds, I'll kill her.'

Blunt looked up at Straw who nodded at her to do as she was instructed. Blunt grabbed the keys without a word and disappeared through the front door, closing it softly behind her. While she was gone Straw continued to appeal to Mitchell to give himself up, pointing out to him that he couldn't hope to get away with this and that there was no sense in killing another girl. It would only make things worse for himself whereas if he gave himself up now that would look good as far as his sentence was concerned at the trial. But Straw's valiant attempts at reasoned, logical persuasion fell on stony deaf ears. Mitchell just ignored him and seemed to be miles away in thought as he held Naomi even closer to him, using her frightened, trembling body as a shield to protect himself from Straw's psychological warfare on his nerves and composure.

Having ordered Straw and Blunt to go down the steps into the cellar after which he carefully closed and locked the door, not forgetting to get them to throw their mobile phones onto the floor before sending them down to their temporary prison, Mitchell was now free to make good his escape. He wasted no time in pushing Naomi out through the front door whilst still taking care to hold the knife hard against her throat to deter her from even thinking about making a run for it and quickly grabbing his coat before they emerged out into the cold, dark evening air. There wasn't s soul about. Clearly his threat to kill Naomi if they tried any funny business had been taken seriously by the police. There wasn't an obvious sign of a police car or van to be seen anywhere so Mitchell made straight for the back of the van, opened the van doors and unceremoniously bundled a still terrified and compliant Naomi inside where he told her to lie down on the floor on her stomach next to a few dirty old dust sheets and sundry tools and equipment and not to move a muscle otherwise he would kill her. She was too frightened to stand up to him and challenge him, fervently believing that as long as she was alive, obeying this sick fucker's every command was the best policy for remaining that way- at least for the time being until the situation became more desperate and threatening.

Once he was satisfied that she was in no position to escape, he shut the back doors and, after quickly taking care of one last precaution, scurried round to the front of the van whereupon he jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut before revving up the van and slipping it into gear and putting his foot down. Within seconds the van had shot forward and was speeding out of the driveway and onto the road where he made a left turn and screeched off down the road. He was anxious to put as much distance between him and his Dad's house as he could before he eventually told himself sternly to slow down a bit and try to drive normally. Did he want to attract the attention of every single person out there unnecessarily by driving like a complete lunatic? He couldn't afford to crash the bloody van, for Christ's sake! He needed time to think about what he should do next and for that he had to have a cool head. There was no sense in driving around like a headless chicken – that would only make matters worse. 'Come on, you idiot,' he rebuked himself. 'You're still in control here, you know. They daren't lay a finger on you while you've still got Naomi. You've got them by the balls. Don't forget that!'

It took Straw and Blunt longer than they would have expected to break down the door to the cellar and free themselves from their embarrassing captivity. For a start it was pitch black down there and they had to feel their way up the steps to the top by degrees. The last thing they needed was for one or both of them to have an accident and fall crashing down to the bottom, breaking an arm or a leg in the process. Secondly, it was nigh on impossible for Straw to get any real forward momentum going in his efforts to break down the door with his shoulder and side of his body. It wasn't like he could take a good long run-up and break the door down with a couple of well-judged hits. In the end he took to kicking it open with his feet as much a with his shoulder but after a good couple of minutes of hard, sweat-stained effort he succeeded in bursting the door down and the two detectives leapt through the doorway and into the half-light of the house, relieved to be free at last.

DS Blunt immediately reached into her inside jacket pocket and took out the second of the two mobiles she always carried around her, thankful that Mitchell hadn't possessed the presence of mind to order them to empty _all_ their pockets out. She was on the phone to Cathy in a trice to get an update on their position. Straw went down the passage way to see that Mitchell's father was all right and by the time he had returned Blunt was finishing her call. 'They've got a trace on the van,' she said triumphantly. 'One of the guys left a tracker hidden under it before they left the scene.'

Straw nodded appreciatively. It was exactly what he would have expected of his team – a bit of ingenuity and imagination which was sorely needed to get the better of this maniac. 'Come on then,' he said making straight for the door. 'We haven't got much time to catch him up before he starts to panic and lose his head. Naomi's still in real danger. We've got to get him quick.'

They flew out of the front door and over towards Straw's car which he had parked just a little way down the driveway. But they had barely reached the boot when Straw pulled up short, looked down at the back of the car and started cursing at the top of his voice. 'Jesus Christ! The fucking bastard! The shitty little fucker's gone and slashed the tyres!' And indeed, the shitty little fucker had done precisely that before he had taken off in his van. Doubtless Mitchell would have smiled hugely if he could have witnessed the scene taking place outside his Dad's house at that moment. DS Blunt's eyes were closed in disbelief and her shoulders were slumped forward in despair while DI Straw was content to do a passable impression of Basil Fawlty jumping up and down on the spot, shaking his fist at the car and generally erupting in a spluttering explosion of uncontrollable rage and frustration.

David Mitchell was feeling much calmer and more in control of his thoughts and emotions now that he had got out onto the main road and could see that no-one appeared to be following him. He turned his head slightly and looked behind him where he could see Naomi lying still on the floor of the van, seemingly still and lifeless. He thought he could hear a gentle tears being shed so he called out to her softly. 'Are you okay, Naomi? I'm sorry about the discomfort but I'm sure you'll understand I can't very well have you riding in the front with me.'

Naomi turned her head away from his face and shook it violently, trying to hide from him the tears that were slowly trickling down her cheeks. She didn't want him to see how frightened she was. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her so terrified for her life, so numb with fear and so utterly convinced she was never going to see Emily alive again. He smiled at her ruefully and turned his head back to the road in front of him which was more or less empty at this late hour of the evening. He started whistling now which served only to put the fear of God into Naomi even more My God! What a callous, unspeakably vile twisted bastard he was! How could anyone be so happy with himself to start whistling with happiness and smugness when he's got an innocent young girl trussed up like a Christmas turkey in the back of his van? She couldn't suppress a few more tears from flowing down her face as she guessed that her fate was pretty much sealed.

Suddenly Mitchell broke off whistling and pounded the dashboard with his fist. He had suddenly remembered that guy who had turned up at the house and had been having a pee upstairs when the police had arrived. Jesus! He had totally forgotten all about him in his frantic urgency to go and get Naomi to use as his passport to freedom and safety. What the fuck had happened to him? He probably would have heard the coppers shouting and banging for help and gone downstairs to see what the fuss was all about! Still, does it really matter now, he asked himself. It was highly unlikely he would ever see the guy again. If only he could remember where he'd seen him before, though! That question was nagging away at him and he suspected he wouldn't be able to sleep properly until it would finally come to him.

Naomi was lying quite still in the back of the van, silently crying herself into a vortex of misery, depression and despair that she knew she would never escape from alive when all of a sudden she heard the tiniest rustle of something stirring just a few inches away from her. At first she thought it must have been her imagination playing tricks on her frazzled and freaked out mind. But then she heard it again and she blinked hard several times in the darkness to try to focus on the space in front of her. Oh my God, she thought. Don't say there are rats in the back of this fucking van. That's all I need. I think I'd rather die from a fatal knife wound than be eaten alive by a horde of hungry rats!

The noise of the van on the road must have been loud enough to mask any sounds coming from the back and so Mitchell couldn't have heard a thing as one of the dust sheets began to move slightly and all of a sudden a human face popped out from under it and stared right into Naomi's face. She nearly died of fright on the spot. The immediate shock hit her worse than anything the postman had said or done to her that day. Her heart practically leapt right out of her chest like the creature in Alien 1 and her eyes felt like they were about to bulge out of their sockets. She swore she had actually stopped breathing for a while, maybe no more than five seconds at most, but she definitely felt as if time had stopped and life had briefly become extinct. She couldn't prevent a scream from escaping her mouth which only the masking tape managed to contain to a stifled, muffled squeal of disbelief.

A considerably dishevelled yet undeniably triumphant James Cook looked across at Naomi and, rather unnecessarily in the circumstances, quickly put a finger to his lips to caution silence. Naomi's eyes grew as big as footballs as she struggled to take in what was happening here. She was being driven God knows where, all tied up and gagged in the back of a disgusting old van, by a sick, murdering postman with a an unhealthy fixation on her and her mate Cook had appeared to have decided to come along for the ride. What in the name of fuck was this all about? She decided she must be going completely mad. She had to have gone out of her mind with fear.

Cook had been thinking up a plan from the moment he had crawled under the dust sheets to hide. He had worked out during their short journey so far that he had to strike while Mitchell's attention was distracted which in all essence meant while his eyes were on the road and he was relatively relaxed. He knew he couldn't afford to wait until Mitchell had stopped the van and got out to go round and get Naomi out. He would have the knife on him then and Cook didn't want to take his chances against a mad serial killer with a knife in his hand. He could see that the knife was lying on the front seat next to Mitchell and so this was his chance. It had to be now before the bastard decided to pull in somewhere. He realised he was taking a big risk, not only with Naomi's life but also with his own but he didn't see what other option he had.

It all happened in a matter of seconds although to Cook it seemed like the whole incident took an entire lifetime to act out. After giving a signal to Naomi to brace herself and blowing her an extravagant kiss for good luck, Cook waited until he thought Mitchell's eyes were looking down at the gear stick for the moment to rise up as far as he could without banging his head on the roof of the van and lunge forward with his arms and wrap them around Mitchell's neck. He certainly took the driver by surprise for it was a good second or two before he reacted to being slowly but powerfully throttled from behind the seat of his van. He had the presence of mind to keep one hand on the steering wheel to try to stop the van from lurching wildly out of control while the other hand thrashed about manically behind him, desperately raining punches and random blows onto Cook's head which Cook attempted to avoid by ducking to one side then the next as much as he could. Cook applied as much pressure as he could to Mitchell's neck with his forearms, trying to throttle and strangle the guy into submission and unconsciousness. The van started to lose a straight course and veered wildly across the road as Mitchell abandoned the notion of keeping it under some semblance of control and reached out for his knife, fingers clawing feverishly for the passenger seat next to him as Cook, spotting his intentions, started to pull him over towards the driver's door and away from the knife which he knew could signal his downfall.

The two guys fought tooth and nail, each letting out blood-curdling grunts and gasps as each strived manfully to overcome the other in a desperate life and death struggle for male superiority and human survival. Just as Cook was starting to think that Mitchell was weakening and that he was maybe slumping forward in his seat as the last few breaths of life were slowly escaping from his body, the van careered right off the road and plunged headlong down ten feet into a ditch, throwing all three of them right off their feet and crashing at various speeds and trajectories into the windscreen, the doors and the side of the van. In a few seconds the van had come to a halt, courtesy of a large tree that had sprung out of nowhere and which the van smacked into with a deafening thump which seemed to echo inside the heads of all the passengers for ages after the vehicle came to a shattering, shuddering halt. No-one moved, no-one groaned, no-one even cried The silence was absolute save for an eerie hissing sound which hung over the scene of apparent devastation like a .heavy fog.

**Author's Message**

I hope I've left you all sufficiently on tenterhooks and on the edge of your seat! Has anyone escaped from the crash alive or has it been complete carnage? You'll have to wait for the 30th (and probably the FINAL) chapter to find out, won't you! Sorry! In the meantime do let me know what you think of this latest instalment. Your reviews and comments have been brilliant all the way through the story and I've really enjoyed reading them (as well as picking up a few helpful suggestions and tips along the way). Tell me how you would like to see the story ending – I'll be fascinated to read how your different versions of the ending compare with my intentions!

John (matureskinsfan).

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	30. Chapter 30: Part 1 of 2

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: The police turn up at the house where the postman is holding Naomi. Before they can break the front door down Mitchell fetches Naomi from the cellar and brings her upstairs at knifepoint to use as his safe passage out of the house. Hiding upstairs, Cook hears the conversations between Mitchell and the police. Mitchell succeeds in escaping with Naomi after locking Straw and Blunt in the cellar. He drives away in the van with Naomi tied up in the back. But Cook has already climbed out of the house and hidden in the back of the van from where he takes Mitchell by surprise and attempts to overpower him. The postman loses control of the van in the struggle and the van goes off the road, crashing into a tree in a ditch.

.-

**CHAPTER THIRTY: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN – PART 1 OF 2**

Emily waited impatiently outside the private hospital room for the doctor to finish his examination and say a few final words to his patient before saying his farewells and leaving the room clear for her to enter alone. He had barely closed the door behind him before she opened it and moved swiftly inside, flashing a huge smile and rushing over to sit on the bed next to the occupant to find out the all-important news.

'So, what did he say? Can you come home soon?' she asked breathlessly, reaching out her hands and slipping them into the hands of the young girl who was sitting up in bed with an imposing -looking bandage around her head which Emily thought gave her the appearance of one of those wartime casualties in the military hospital.

Naomi looked into Emily's big wide eyes that seemed to hint at desperation and longing that always managed to make the blonde catch her breath and melt her heart. She grinned at the redhead and nodded slowly, taking delight at the beam of joy that filled Emily's face from one side to the other. 'Yeah. He said I can go home today. They were only keeping me in overnight as a precaution in case of concussion but he's pretty happy with how I am.'

Emily leaned forward, cupped Naomi's face with her small slender hands and kissed her passionately yet sensitively, anxious not to press too hard on the side of her face in case she made Naomi's head throb with the pain of the cuts and bruises that she had sustained during the crash the previous night. But Naomi couldn't have cared less if she felt any twinges or aches and pains. The sweetness and warmth of Emily's kiss would have rendered any physical side effects insignificant and utterly forgettable.

When eventually the two girls slowly and reluctantly pulled out of the kiss, their lips tantalisingly only inches away from each other, still moist and gleaming from the other's saliva, Emily had tears in her eyes which instantly gave Naomi a nasty jolt and left her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach

'I thought I might never get to kiss you again!' Emily whispered in a painfully shaky voice which only just succeeded in completing the sentence before breaking down into a half strangled cry which Naomi tried to eradicate by putting her arms around the redhead's neck and hugging the life out of her. Both girls clung on to each other for a good minute with a desperation and a longing that suggested they were saying goodbye to each other for the last time rather than celebrating the fact that they had been reunited at last after a heartbreaking period of enforced separation.

'Well, you can get to kiss me as much as you like every day for the rest of our lives now, can't you?' Naomi pulled back and smiled at the teary-eyed redhead who forced an enormous smile through her tears and leaned forward to take her up on the offer immediately by planting a quick smacker on the blonde girls' lips.

'I'm going to have take good care of you when we get home, aren't I?' said Emily with a mischievous grin dancing at the corners of her mouth.

'Does that mean you're going to put your nurse's outfit on when we get home?' Naomi smirked, having trouble containing a huge belly laugh from escaping and filling the room. 'You know, the one with the black stockings, the short skirt and the high heels?'

'I might - if you're very good. But you'll have to behave yourself and do EXACTLY what the nurse tells you to do.'

'Oh, don't worry; I'll be very good, I promise. I'll take all my medicine like a good girl and won't get out of bed until you say I can.'

The two girls collapsed in a heap on the bed in a fit of giggles, borne as much out of nervous relief and unspoken gratitude at being brought back together again as out of uncontrollable laughter at the mental images their innuendos and word play had conjured up. They were still sniggering and smiling at each other when the door opened cautiously and Cathy came hesitantly into the room. Immediately on seeing her Naomi and Emily stopped giggling and greeted the detective like a long-lost friend, each giving her an affectionate hug and inviting her to pull up a chair and sit down with them for a while

'How are you feeling?' she asked Naomi who told her the news of her imminent departure from the hospital.

'That's fantastic,' she replied, giving a smile of approval before falling silent and staring down at the floor. The two girls both sensed a certain uneasiness in Cathy's demeanour and looked at each other with puzzled and anxious expressions. 'What is it, Cathy?' said Emily, worried by how quickly her mood had changed after she had heard the good news.

The detective pursed her lips a while before jerking her head up to look the two confused young girls in the eyes before she finally plucked up the courage to speak. 'I just wanted to say…I'm so, so sorry I failed to protect you from that lunatic. I didn't do my job properly and because of that you nearly got killed and that was all my fault.'

'It's okay, Cathy,' said Emily, getting up off the bed and going to hug her. 'It wasn't your fault. You did everything you could. He would have got past you somehow or other. He was so hell-bent on having Naomi for himself it would have taken a whole army to have stopped him.'

'You mustn't beat yourself up about it, 'added Naomi getting out of bed to join the two girls in a weird kind of group hug. 'I don't blame you for what happened. He got lucky, that was all.'

They hugged each other in a show of genuine affection and mutual support for a while, one arm around each of the other two waists, until they broke free and resumed their original positions.

'What happened to the postman?' asked Naomi, not because she particularly cared whether he lived or died but just to satisfy her curiosity and to attempt to attain some kind of closure on the most shocking and traumatic episode of her life so far.

'He died shortly after he was brought here,' said Cathy matter-of-factly.

'Good!' said Emily not bothering to hide her pleasure on hearing the news of the death of the guy who almost succeeded in taking Naomi away from her for ever. 'I hope the doctors didn't waste much time trying hard to save his life. He deserves to rot in hell for what he put us through – and for killing all the other girls as well. Poor Mandy,' she said.

Naomi nodded. She may not have lost any sleep nor shed any great tears when Mandy had died but equally she acknowledged that her erstwhile rival for Emily's affections didn't deserve to die the way she did at the hands of a sick evil bastard like David Mitchell.

'From what we've been able to dig up about him, he was an accident waiting to happen,' Cathy went on to explain briefly before she judged it right for her to leave the two young lovers on their own. 'His mother left him and his Dad when he was thirteen for another man, so the rumour goes. Mind you, nobody's actually heard from her since she disappeared so we haven't ruled out the possibility that he may have killed _her_ as well in a fit of rage. We're looking into that.'

'What about the girls he killed?' Emily and Naomi looked equally aghast at the thought that Mitchell may have got rid of his mother all those years ago.

'He obviously couldn't handle rejection. He'd suffered the ultimate rejection when his mother turned her back on him and his father and I guess these feelings of abandonment and rejection became magnified as he grew older and tried to form relationships with girls. Eventually he was going to snap and take it out on the girls who turned him down.'

'Jesus! To think he came to the house almost every bloody day.' Naomi looked as if she wanted to be sick on the spot.

'How come he didn't try to kill Naoms right after she turned him down for a date?' Emily shivered visibly at the thought of how close to death Naomi might have come a long time before the dead girls bodies started turning up in and around the city.

'We don't know for sure. We probably never will. Maybe he really did love you, Naomi, in his own sick and twisted way. Maybe he never intended to kill you at all.'

Naomi's disgust and revulsion was written all over her face and Emily put her arms around the blonde and pulled her close up against her. 'Well, thank God he didn't,' said the redhead. 'Now he's gone, we can try to pick up from where we left off and live our lives together.'

'I'd better go,' said Cathy. 'We've got plenty of loose ends to tie up. Take good care of each other, the pair of you. I hope you'll both be very happy together, I really mean that.' She gave both girls a big hug before she left, turning back one last time to wave goodbye as she closed the door. She fleetingly saw them embracing in each others arms, causing her to let out a barely audible sigh of sadness before walking away.

JJ pushed open the door somewhat tentatively and took a few steps into the room, closely followed by Lara and they looked over towards the bed where a battered and bruised James Cook was lying back on a mountain of fluffed up pillows, his eyes closed. At the sound of their approaching footsteps and exchange of quizzical whispers Cook opened his eyes and flashed a typically cheeky grin at his two visitors.

'Jaykins! Come on in! Lara, you too. I've been wondering when you bastards were going to get your arses over here and see your old mate.'

JJ responded to Cook's seemingly good-natured greeting with a smile of relief that his friend had clearly not suffered any irreparable brain damage. He went over to the nearest side of the bed, grabbing a chair and sitting down while Lara made for the chair on the far side.

'I take it from the plastic bag you're carrying that you've brought the patient some much needed goodies to help him recover from his ordeal?'

JJ looked down at the bag he was holding in his hand and gave a weak smile. He suspected that Cook would be less than impressed with the contents of the bag. He doubtless had very different ideas from the two of them as to what constituted sensible presents for a friend recovering in hospital from a nasty road accident. 'I've… just brought a few things to cheer you up, you know…..nothing special. It was Lara's idea, really. I can't take much of the credit.'

Cook looked across at Lara who smiled sweetly at him gave him a knowing look which was intended to suggest that Cook shouldn't get his hopes up too high that he was going to be partying like the bad old days in his hospital bed that night 'Come on then, JJ. Let's see what you've got. I'm still feeling pretty weak so I need a good pick-me-up or two.'

'Um…right. Okay…well, obviously when you visit a friend in hospital, you HAVE to bring them…' he fished a hand into the bag and brought out a bunch of grapes which he held out very nervously for Cook's approval. Cook's mouth dropped open as he fixed his disbelieving gaze on the aforementioned fruit clasped in JJ's hand. He appeared to have lost the power of speech temporarily, so overcome with emotion clearly was he at JJ's first offering from the Red Cross food parcel consignment.

'What the fuck….? JJ, they're GREEN!I don't do green, you know that! How the Donald Duck am I supposed to get better eating healthy green shit like that? What else have you got in there? A lettuce and a couple of cucumbers, perhaps?'

'No! No, honestly, Cook. There's nothing else remotely green in the bag, I promise you. _Definitely_ not green. No, these other things are anything but green.'

'What other things?' Cook suspicions were heightened as he looked into JJ's eyes which were flickering wildly between him and Lara who was doing a very good job at keeping a straight face, despite desperately wanting to burst out laughing.

'Well….Lara pointed out it's also traditional to bring a patient…..' he rustled around in the food parcel once again and hesitantly produced a string bag of satsumas and nectarines.

Cook let out a groan of frustration and disbelief which swiftly turned into a deafening oath of epic proportions which might easily have been heard over on the other wing of the hospital.

'Oranges are very good for you when your energy levels are low, you know, Cook,' said Lara smiling sweetly at the exasperated young man. 'Doctors swear by them. I can see you do as well, judging by your reaction just now.'

'JJ, I need chocolate, I need cakes and biscuits, I need sausage rolls and pork pies! I need PROPER FOOD! I'm trying to recover from a traumatic car accident which has left me weak and fragile. I'm not in a fucking health farm trying to lose a couple of stone! I need to put weight back ON, not take any off!'

'Sorry, Cook. But the nurse wouldn't have let us bring any food in like that. She'd have confiscated it straight away. You're on a strict regime at the moment…at least until you've been given the all-clear.'

'So is that it, then? Grapes and oranges? Is that the sum total of your imagination, JJ? Are they supposed to help get me through the long, dark days and nights of my imprisonment here?'

'Oh, no, Cook. Of course not. There's more stuff in the bag for you.'

'I can't fucking wait,' said Cook, leaning back on his pillow and closing his eyes as if to block out from his sight the nightmare of JJ's sack of unappetising stocking fillers which was beginning to resemble with every passing minute Baldrick's hapless escape kit for an imprisoned Captain Blackadder.

'Look! I've brought you some porn magazines,' said JJ, fishing out a few dog-eared dirty magazines which looked like they had seen better days. 'That'll cheer you up while you're stuck in here, won't it?' JJ searched anxiously for Cook's approval as he handed the magazines over to him.

'They were JJ's idea, Cook, not mine just in case you were wondering,' said Lara with a stony cold stare at Cook who was too busy flicking through the titles to notice her disapproving expression. 'Shame you've got your right arm in a sling, though isn't it?' She bit her lip to stop herself from bursting out laughing, not for the first time that morning and flashed a sweet, innocent look at Cook as he took his eyes off the magazines to glance across at her with a face like thunder.

'Very thoughtful of you, Gayjay. I'm sure I'll find a use for them. I might be able to sell them on to some of the other poor bastards in here who haven't got a hope in hell of pulling any of the nurses.' He made to hand them back to JJ to ask him to hide them away in his bedside cabinet but had trouble with the bottom magazine which appeared to stick to his fingers briefly before he managed to shake it off with an expression of disgust and revulsion etched all over his face. 'For fuck's sake, JJ. You might have wiped them clean first! I take it they come from your own private collection at home?'

JJ giggled nervously and turned bright red as Lara pierced him right between the eyes with a look that would have felled an elephant at thirty paces. 'Um…well, sort of….. I mean, I haven't looked at them for ages…absolutely ages. Like years ago, long before I met you, Lara….honestly. I was going to throw them all out any day only….well, when I heard Cook was in hospital I thought maybe…he could…. use them.' JJ's voice tailed off dramatically under the influence of Lara's withering glare of open disgust and her lips pressed tight together which could only be concealing a snarl of discontent.

'Well, I did remember to bring you some Lucozade, Cook. That's very good also for rebuilding your strength. In fact why don't you have some now? I think you could do with some. You're looking a bit peaky compared to when we came in.'

Cook looked at the bottle in utter disbelief and then back at JJ who tried to wink extravagantly at Cook, but without attracting Lara's attention. Cook contemplated JJ in silence for a few seconds, trying to work out what the hell was up with his weird mate who was pulling the most extraordinary facial expressions like someone had just shoved a red hot poker up his arse. Suddenly the penny dropped and Cook gave a knowing smile just in time before JJ's eyes nearly popped out of his head in his frantic attempts to get his secret message across.

'Oh, right, I get you, JJ. Yes, of course. Lucozade. Good thinking, Batman. I'll have some after you've gone. I'm sure it'll pick me up very quickly, eh?'

JJ smiled in relief that Cook had finally worked out that he had managed to replace most of the contents of the energy drink with the best part of a bottle of vodka which JJ had hoped would meet with Cook's fullest approval. He was glad that this clever ploy of his had seemed to cheer Cook up and that he had succeeded in redeeming himself after the earlier debacle with the fruit and magazines. JJ was finally able to relax and bask in Cook's evident approval of his alcoholic subterfuge and the three of them settled back to chat away merrily as Cook brought them fully up to speed with the dramatic events of the last twenty-four house.

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.'Are you ready, then?' Emily said as Naomi looked behind her one last time at the hospital bed before closing the door shut behind her.

'As ready as I'll ever be.' The blonde smiled at Emily who took hold of her left hand in her right and started to lead her down the corridor, taking care not to walk too fast in case her girlfriend still felt a little unsteady on her pins after more than a day off her feet in bed.

'Shall we pop in and see Katie before we go?' suggested Emily and was pleased to see Naomi nod in agreement. Naomi knew that the rest of the Fitch family would be there with Katie and Emily half feared Naomi might want to avoid another meeting with Jenna after their last confrontation in the hospital ended so acrimoniously. They wandered along a number of corridors until they came to the room where Katie was now making an excellent recovery and was expected to be allowed to return home within the next few days.

'We're ready to go home now, 'said Emily when they entered the room. Naomi smiled nervously at the Fitches but was pleasantly surprised to be greeted like a long lost old family friend, even by Jenna who came over to her and hugged her, smiling warmly at Naomi as she did so and stroking her hair as she looked anxiously into the blonde's uncertain, anxious eyes.

'Are you sure you're feeling well enough to go home, Naomi? We don't want you having a relapse, you know. You must take it really easy for the next few days. You've been through a terrible ordeal, after all.'

'Don't worry, Mum, I'll make sure she takes it easy. I intend to keep a bloody close eye on her. She won't be able to sneeze without me knowing about it. I'll be right by her side every minute of the day. I won't let her out of my sight.'

'Jesus, Em. Don't suffocate the poor cow. She's already been kept prisoner by one obsessive fan. Don't make her go through all that a second time!' Katie pulled a face of mock horror at Emily and with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes she smiled across at Naomi who responded in kind at Katie's good-natured leg-pulling which was happy evidence that she was getting back to being her old wicked self again..

'Don't worry, Katie. Ems can keep me chained to the bed for as long as she likes. I won't mind one little bit this time.' Jenna blushed with embarrassment and Rob coughed nervously on the other side of the room while James stared goggle-eyed at Naomi in open-mouthed shock and awe. 'Wow! Do you and Emily really tie each other up in bed? Can I watch one day?'

'Don't be so disgusting, you little pervert!' said Emily, aiming a more than playful kick at her young brother. 'Mum, Dad, you'd better keep a close eye on this twisted little shit. You don't want him to turn out just like the postman, do you?'

'I wouldn't!' cried James, outraged at the suggestion he might become a real card-carrying pervert when he grew up.

'I think we might have to seriously think about sending you to an all boys boarding school if we can ever afford it, James. I don't like the way you're becoming obsessed with girls at such a young age. It's not right.'

James turned round to look at his mother with a look of indescribable horror etched all over his face which had turned as white as a sheet at the suggestion and for a moment it looked as if he was going to throw up all over the bed.

'Dad! Tell me she's only joking, please! You CAN'T do that to me. How am I going to grow up to become a gyner….a gynerlogica…..a gynercol…..?'

'It's a gynaecologist, son, and if you can't even say the word properly, how the bloody hell do you expect to be able to learn how to be one?'

James fell silent as Emily, Katie and Naomi all collapsed into fits of giggles whilst Jenna looked shocked at her son's increasing obsession with devoting his adult life to working with women's naked genitals. 'Maybe I should become a postman instead, then. At least that's a lot easier to say,' he considered, staring pointedly at the girls as a wickedly sly grin stretched across his face.

'I think perhaps we'd better go now before the police have another murder on their hands to solve,' said Emily, sighing loudly as she caught sight out of the corner of her eye of Naomi looking daggers at James who was winking at her provocatively.

The two girls took their leave of the family and wandered off down the corridor. Naomi suggested they should pop in and See how Cook was getting on before they left the hospital and Emily nodded in agreement. But when they got to Cook's private room they found JJ and Lara coming out of the door and being passed on the way in by DI Straw and DS Blunt who closed the door behind them in a clear statement that this was to be police business with no-one else being invited to participate in the discussions.

'What's that all about?' asked Naomi who didn't like the way that the two coppers had effectively thrown JJ and Lara out of the room and had demanded an immediate audience with the guy who had largely been responsible for saving her life.

'I don't know,' replied JJ. 'They just turned up and asked us to leave and let them be alone to talk to Cook. They didn't say what it was about.'

Emily looked across at her girlfriend whom she could see was very upset at this turn of events and the two of them decided to hang about for a while to find out what was going to happen to Cook. Everything had turned out so well in the end. The last thing they wanted was for Cook to end up back in trouble with the police after he had put his life at risk to save Naomi from the hands of the serial-killing postman.

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	31. Chapter 30: Part 2 of 2  FINALE!

**AUTHOR'S FOREWORD**

**Previously on Photo Finish**: Emily visits Naomi in hospital and is overjoyed to learn that she has been given the all-clear to go home with her. JJ and Lara turn up to see Cook though he is less than impressed with the gifts that they have brought for him. Cathy informs the girls that Mitchell died soon after arrival in hospital. Naomi is welcomed warmly by the whole Fitch family including Jenna but the girls are concerned when they see DI Straw & DS Blunt turn up to question Cook.

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**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN – PART 2 OF 2**

The faces of DI Straw and DS Blunt were expressionless as they moved over to the bed and sat down either side of Cook who looked across at them each in turn and groaned quietly, anticipating the worst.

'For fuck's sake! What do you two want? Can't you let me recover in peace before you throw me back in the slammer? Give a guy a break, man!'

'We need to ask you a few questions, James,' said DS Blunt, taking out a notebook and hunting around in her bag for a pen. 'We've got to write up our final report on this case and there are a few details which aren't clear to us, to put it mildly. Like, how the hell did you come to be in David Mitchell's van when he took off with Naomi? Or was just pure coincidence?'

'We need the truth, James, not some cock and bull story. If you lie to us and give us a load of old bullshit then we'll charge you with obstructing the police with their enquiries and you'll be back inside without your feet even touching the ground.' DI Straw wanted to impress upon Cook that even an unselfish and undoubtedly courageous display of heroics such as the young man had produced in the heat of a dramatic and tense climax to a difficult case did not afford him complete immunity from the laws of the land.

'Okay, okay,' sighed Cook in exhausted resignation, closing his eyes and wincing in pain as he changed position and attempted the impossible which was to make himself more comfortable in the close presence of the police. He knew that sooner or later he would have to give the cops a full account of his side of the extraordinary events of the previous evening but he would have liked to have had a bit more time to himself and enjoy his last few days of freedom, albeit in a hospital bed, before they banged him up again. Besides, he hadn't had the chance yet to case the joint properly and see if there was any means for him to do a runner and escape, assuming of course that he was in a fit enough state to walk on his feet without collapsing in agony.

During the next ten minutes Cook told the two detectives the remarkable story of how he came to have witnessed the fag end of Mitchell's abduction of Naomi and his subsequent relentless hunt for the serial killer around the Bristol countryside, aided and abetted by Emily's information on the killer's presumed identity. Straw's serious, silent face was a picture when Cook told them how he had commandeered the passing car outside the Fitch house. Cook almost had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from laughing out loud at the DI's expression of disapproval at Cook's methods for acquiring the much needed wheels with which to set off in hot pursuit of Mitchell. That's another couple of charges to go on my rap sheet, he thought, chuckling inwardly. All in all he'd managed to rack up a pretty impressive list of criminal offences for someone not yet out of his teens, though he said so himself. Okay, he wasn't exactly in the master criminal category just yet but he'd made a fair start and it was certainly something to build on for the future, he reckoned. A decent c.v. at least for a guy of his age.

DS Blunt fought hard to keep a straight face as she concentrated on getting all the details down as Cook told them his story. She could see out of the corner of her eye DI Straw's stony-faced expression and guessed he wasn't overly impressed by James Cook's initiative and enterprise faced with the situation he had found himself in. Blunt had to confess to feeling a surprising admiration and respect for the young man in front of her, despite his criminal tendencies. Here was a guy who was clearly a rogue, a tearaway and a bit of a hothead who could get himself into trouble with the law at the flick of a switch or the press of a button – particularly if you knew which buttons to press.

And yet he was also capable of the most extraordinary acts of selfless bravery and undoubtedly valued his friends above all other considerations and put their safety and their lives way above his own. She could see there was as much to admire in James Cook as there was to disapprove and he had a cheekiness and honesty of manner and attitude that she could easily understand would endear him to other people and made his friends take him to their hearts as often as he would infuriate them and drive them to distraction She felt that if ever she found herself in serious trouble and in danger of losing her life in the course of duty, James Cook would not exactly be the last man she would hope to have around to save her.

On completing the account of his story of events Cook made himself more comfortable on his pillows and stared at the silent Straw and Blunt, waiting anxiously for them to charge him with assault and battery, car theft, obstructing the police with their enquiries and a million other offences which he was certain the police would easily be able to conjure up for his benefit, not to mention the little matter of absconding from police custody for which he suspected his original sentence would now be increased. He had the uninviting prospect in front of him of spending the foreseeable future locked up in prison with no likelihood of remission, parole for good behaviour or leniency. So what followed came as an unexpected and pleasant surprise.

'You'll be pleased to hear that we're not going to be taking you straight back to prison, James,' said DS Blunt.

Cook looked at the two detectives blankly, wondering if they were just trying to wind him up and take the piss. 'What? How come? Are you trying to wind me up or something? Look, I know I've now got a rap sheet as long as my dick. Don't jerk me about. If you're gonna charge me with all kinds of shit then just get on with it.'

'James, in view of your courageous actions in single-handedly rescuing Naomi Campbell from the clutches of the man who we now know to be the serial killer David Mitchell, it has been agreed with our boss that we will not be charging you with any offences committed by you yesterday as a direct result of your attempts to rescue Naomi'. DI Straw wasn't exactly smiling and his eyes weren't what you would describe as twinkling mischievously as he told Cook this news but his expression had taken on a much kinder and more benevolent appearance which made Cook believe he meant what he was saying.

DS Blunt chipped in after her governor to further make Cook's day. 'We shall also be making an application to the Home Office to amend your current prison sentence to a six months suspended sentence. Do you understand what that means, James?'

Cook's face broke out into a broad grin and he nodded approvingly. 'You're not going to throw me straight back in the slammer!'

'That's right, 'smiled Blunt. 'You're a free man as soon as the application is approved and granted by the Home Secretary. Then, provided you keep your nose clean for the next six months and don't commit any criminal offences your sentence will be considered to have been served in full and you will be a free man again.'

Cook smiled thoughtfully at Blunt and nodded quietly. 'I guess I'd better keep a low profile when I get out of here, then, eh?'

'STAY OUT OF TROUBLE, Mr Cook!' said a tight-lipped DI Straw who had put on his serious face and tone of voice to emphasise the importance of his message to the infuriating young tearaway. 'I don't want to have to see you again – about anything, do you hear me? I don't want to hear about you dropping litter, jaywalking, returning out of date library books – anything at all. I want your nose to be so clean I can see my reflection in it. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yeah, mate, perfectly. Keep your hair on. You'll be pleased to hear that when I get out of this place I'll be moving away from Bristol. Far, far away so you won't have to see my handsome face ever again.'

'I'll hold you to that, Mr Cook. Please don't disappoint me and change your mind. In fact, if you like I'll even send round DS Blunt here to help you pack your suitcases.'

Cook laughed in typical throaty and disarming fashion at DI Straw's unexpected and uncharacteristic attempt at humour and his reaction prompted similar guffaws of laughter from Blunt and the merest hint of a smile from Straw. Cook was still heaving with laughter thirty seconds later when the two detectives made their farewells and left the room.

The minute they saw Straw and Blunt leave the private room and make their way up the corridor Naomi and Emily scampered over and went in to see Cook without even giving a courtesy knock before entering, so eager were they to find out what the cops had said.

'So, what did they want with you, Cook?' asked Naomi as she walked over to the bed, leaned forward to give him a hug and sat down in a chair. Emily followed suit and sat down on the other side of the bed, her eyes all big and wide with uneasy expectation and nervous trepidation. 'You're not going to have to go back to prison, are you?' the redhead pleaded, her shaky voice betraying the full extent of her emotions.

'Of course not,' smirked Cook coolly, trying to look as if the thought had never entered his head.

'What!' screamed the girls in unison and both of them jumped up instantly in synchronised precision and jumped wildly onto the bed to smother him in an embrace of genuine exaltation and relief. Emily wept a few tears of unrestrained joy as if he had been given a stay of execution from Death Row while Naomi contented herself with nodding silently in approval at the unusually sensible decision taken by the police not to throw the book at Cook as she feared they might have done despite all his recent heroics.

'You're looking at a free man, girls. The slate has been wiped clean. All debts to society have been repaid. The Cookie Monster has been released into the wild again.'

'What about all the stuff you did yesterday?' said Naomi, her eyes twinkling and smiling at the memory of Cook's exploits outside the Fitch house. 'Are they really turning a blind eye to all that?'

'All sins have been forgiven, Naomikins, in the name of justice. Come on now, I'm a local hero! You can't lock up a bloody hero just because of a little bit of petty car theft and assault and battery, can you? What sort of society would we be living in if you treated a hero like that?'

'I see the blows to your head haven't diminished your natural modesty and humility, Cook,' remarked Naomi with a sly grin.

'No chance,' replied Cook with a chuckle. 'You can't get brain damage when there isn't a brain to damage.'

'True enough,' said Emily, smiling from ear to ear. Cook may have always been a cocky little bastard at the best of times but she admired his ability not to take himself too seriously and not to be too much in love with himself at the expense of his friends and family.

'So what are you going to do now?' Naomi turned a quizzical eye on Cook as she leaned forward to pick a few grapes from the bowl where JJ had placed them before he and Lara had left.

Cook abruptly stopped smiling and his dark, smouldering eyes were no longer laughing as he looked at Naomi in silence for a while. Her innocent question seemed to have pushed him into another world and he bit his lip as he looked past her shoulder and stared at the wall, his mouth hardening and his eyes narrowing in intense concentration and contemplation.

'I've got to get away from here, guys. I need to start my life all over again somewhere else.'

'Why? You said you're a free man now. You don't have to go into hiding any more. You can come and stay with us, can't he, Naoms? Just until you figure out what you want to do with your life, of course.'

Emily looked across at her girlfriend beseeching her with plaintive eyes and voice to agree to her impromptu request that they should take in Cook as a temporary lodger at the Campbell-Fitch House of Fun.

'I suppose so,' said Naomi a tad reluctantly, well aware of how tricky and potentially complicated things might be for the three of them given the various private conversations she'd had with Cook in the past on the subject of love and sex generally and the two of them in particular.

'What? Do you mean our three in a bed sex romp is still a runner, then?' said Cook, raising an eyebrow provocatively, winking disgracefully at a gobsmacked Emily and giving Naomi his very best lecher's impression.

'No, it fucking isn't. IF we did decide to put you up for a while, the door to our bedroom would be firmly locked, twenty-four seven, you disgusting perv.'

'Well, it's a nice idea, girls but unless you've had your bedroom sound-proofed I think I'll have to politely decline your very generous offer. I'm not sure I'll get any sleep with all the panting and groaning and screaming you two girls would be making every night. And I'm going to need plenty of rest and recuperation for a few weeks, you know.'

Naomi and Emily exchanged a quick glance of righteous indignation and red-faced embarrassment and nodded to each other before they each grabbed a pillow from behind Cook's head with lightening fast reflexes and started pummelling him mercilessly about the head and upper body, while he collapsed in fits of laughter and went through the motions of defending himself against this concentrated onslaught from the two girls.

'Seriously, Cook,' said Emily after they had decided he had received enough punishment for his outrageous comments on their nocturnal sexual habits, 'Why do you have to leave Bristol?'

'What are you running away from, Cook?' asked Naomi, looking deep into his eyes, trying to see what thoughts and feelings lay deep beneath the surface.

'I'm not sure,' he replied, looking down at the bed, unable to return her piercing gaze. 'Maybe myself. Maybe the past. But before I go, I've got to see Effy. I need to tell her something important. Can you get her to come and see me when I'm well enough to get out of here? Promise me you'll do that for me, girls, eh?'

Naomi and Emily recognised the seriousness of his request by the tone of his voice and nodded silently, unsure what to make of his sudden change of mood and expression. He seemed almost sad and lost, like someone who'd just woken up to find himself in a desolate unfamiliar place with no obvious means of escape back to the comfort and warmth of the world he knew.

'It's been a good result, gov,' said DS Blunt as she and DI Straw made their way back to the police station in his car. 'Four murders and one attempted murder cleared up all at the same time, Naomi Campbell rescued safe and sound and the killer dead so no need to waste the taxpayers' money on an unnecessary trial and having to lock him up for the rest of his miserable life. And Katie Fitch is well on the way to a full recovery. A pretty good day all round, I'd say.'

'Three murders cleared up, Blunt. Not four.' Di Straw was still far from convinced about that Mitchell was the killer of the unidentified male in his forties who had been washed up in the river.

'But it could have been Mitchell, gov, couldn't it? I mean, this guy, whoever he was, well, he could have surprised Mitchell after he had killed one of the girls or even witnessed him doing it. Mitchell would have had to take care of him as well, wouldn't he? We can't say for certain it wasn't Mitchell, can we? This guy was stabbed to death just like the girls Mitchell killed. The M.O was very similar, after all.'

'I know. But I still don't quite buy it. I can't give you a good reason why I don't think it was Mitchell. It's just my gut instinct. Something tells me he isn't connected with the case at all.'

'Well, I'll go through the case file on this guy when we get back, check up on every detail. If there's something there that connects him to Mitchell or any of Mitchells's victims, then we'll find it. '

'Fine, you do that Blunt. And if you so find something which links him to this case then I'll be absolutely delighted. The last thing I want is any messy loose ends. I want to put this case to bed once and for all. By the way, make sure you take a proper statement from James Cook before he discharges himself from hospital and we never see hide nor hair of him again.'

'Will do, gov. But I've got a feeling he'll be sticking around for a while yet, at least until his friends are all out of hospital like him. He's pretty close to all his mates. I don't think he'll be going anywhere just yet.'

'I'm afraid I don't have as much faith in him as you do, Blunt. I still think we'll be seeing him again in an official capacity. I wouldn't put much money on him staying out of trouble for six months. His sort never do, it's like they have a death wish or something. They just can't keep their noses clean, wherever there's trouble guys like him tend to be drawn to it like bees to honey.'

DS Blunt turned her head away from Straw and smiled to herself. Her boss was never going to give James Cook the benefit of the doubt, that's for sure. Those two were poles apart in terms of character and attitude and would never be on each other's Christmas card list. But she was prepared to be a bit more charitable than her boss. She was convinced that James Cook would keep his nose clean and would make something of his life from now on. She didn't know what he would end up doing but she was certain he would make a name for himself one way or another. Maybe having been feted as a bit of a hero, having saved a young girl's life would be the making of him, would encourage him to give up all his bad ways of the past, the fighting, the drugs, the booze, the stealing and the breaking and entering. With a bit of help, James Cook just might see the light and do something useful with his life. She hoped so, at any rate. He deserved a second chance of redemption after his recent selfless heroics.

Emily cuddled up to Naomi even more closely as she listened with a perverse fascination to Naomi's story of her time being held captive by the postman in the dark dingy room down in his father's cellar. She shuddered in horror at her girlfriend's account of the conversations they had exchanged and wept openly when Naomi described the terrifying moments when he seemed to come close to killing her with the knife held at her throat. She knew it was painful to listen to but equally she realised that it was probably to both their advantages to get the whole horrifying incident well and truly out of their systems and talking through it like this was far better than bottling it all up inside for good and pretending it had never happened. At some point or other the evil genie was bound to escape from the lamp and wreak havoc on both their minds if they chose to go down that dangerous road.

They lay together on the bed, wrapped up in each others' arms, giddily breathing in their respective perfumes, the comforting warmth of their bodies and the sweetness of their breath. They had kissed each other almost to death when they had first got home but had both been so exhausted and weakened by the drama and tension of the last few days that they had fallen onto the bed without taking things any further in a biblical sense, content just to lie in each others arms and enjoy the long awaited pleasure of just being together and taking which they had both feared they might never experience again.

They drifted off to sleep for a while and on waking up suddenly some half an hour later Emily looked at the still sleeping Naomi at her shoulder and, out of absolutely nowhere and quite incongruously given the seriousness of their conversation before they nodded off, Emily had a wicked thought which she acted upon on the spur of the moment. Taking great care to disentangle herself from Naomi's clutches without unduly disturbing the dozing blonde, she leaned across the side of the bed and rummaged around in the bedside drawer on her side of the bed until she finally came across what she had been searching for.

She leaned back towards Naomi who had stirred slightly at the movements made by Emily but otherwise still had her eyes closed and was breathing softly in a light sleep. It only took the redhead a few seconds to work out how to use the objects she was holding in her hands and then almost immediately she sprung into action, seizing one of Naomi's hands and clamping it via the handcuff to the bedstead above their head before she had barely had time to wake up and register what was going on. She opened her eyes to see Emily grinning from ear to ear as her girlfriend grabbed hold of her other hand, put the handcuff around it and swiftly repeated the manoeuvre.

Naomi's mouth flew open in shock as if to scream but almost immediately she caught sight of Emily's smiling face and wickedly twinkling eyes and she relaxed, realising what was going on.

'Right, Campbell, I have got you under total control now. You are in my power and you will do exactly as I say! Resistance is useless. The worm is about to turn. I'm going to be the dominatrix from now on, do you hear?'

Naomi burst out in a fit of giggles and looked up at a smiling Emily and said 'Where the fuck did you get those?'

'I got them ages ago but I was waiting for the right time to use them. I reckon now's as good a time as any. I don't want you waking up in the middle of the night in the next few days screaming your head off because you're having a nightmare about being handcuffed to the bed by that sick psycho of a postman. I want you to have nice thoughts in your head about handcuffs and beds. Are you okay with that?'

'Do I have a choice?' asked Naomi with a grin, looking above her and pretending to try to escape from the handcuffs while wriggling away from Emily who had begun to climb on top of her, straddling her waist with her knees.

'Not really,' the redhead said giggling. 'Now, will you please stop trying to resist? How the hell am I supposed to take you to heaven and back if you're going to put up a fight? Just lie still and let me start ravishing you, okay? We've got a lot of catching up to do and I can't hold out any longer.'

'Promise me one thing, though, Ems.'

'What?'

'You will put on that sexy little nurse's uniform next time, won't you?'

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

'Why have we stopped here, Cook?' Effy looked across at Cook some moments after he had brought the car to a halt outside a house which she didn't recognise. 'Whose house is that? What's going on?'

Cook turned towards Effy as he switched off the ignition and looked at the bemused young girl in silence for a while, seemingly searching for the right words to say or perhaps the courage with which to say them.

'Effy, I've got some bad news to tell you,' he said in a low voice, forcing himself to look her in the face even though it was killing him inside to do so.

'Is it to do with Freddie? Is this why you wouldn't tell me what had happened to him before?' She looked very scared, almost on the point of tears but was trying desperately to hold herself together, to steel herself against the bad news which she was certain she was going to hear

'I'm afraid it is, babe. You're going to have to be incredibly brave, Effy. I know what's happened to Freds and I'm going to tell you the whole story now. Come over here.'

He pulled her gently towards him and held her tightly in his arms, bracing himself for her reaction which he knew was going to be hysterical, prolonged and so, so painful to witness. He told her slowly and sensitively the whole story, starting from that night of the party in Freddie's shed some months ago when he had caught sight of Foster outside in the garden and followed him home. He didn't spare her any of the grisly details as he reckoned she deserved to hear the whole truth of the brutal events at Dr Foster's place. As she collapsed into wave upon wave of heart rending tears and screams in his arms he simply held her tightly and allowed her to grieve, without adding any senseless platitudes about how things were going to be okay. She needed to go through this devastatingly painful process and it was his job simply to be there for her in her hour of need.

It must have been at least ten minutes before either of them spoke again after he had finished telling her the whole story of that night at Foster's. Effy looked up at him and, through eyes filed with tears, she practically spat out the words. 'At least that bastard's dead now. We found him, Katie and me, a couple of weeks ago, in Freddie's shed. We'd gone there to meet you. We thought you had sent a text asking to meet us there. But when wee got there we found Foster lying dead in a pool of blood in the shed.'

'I know you did, babe.'

'What? How could you know?'

'Because I was there when it happened, Eff. I watched you discover the body. I was hiding at the back of the shed when you found him. It was me that killed the bastard!'

'What? You?' Effy looked incredulously up at Cook who simply nodded in response.

'But…..how….. I don't understand, Cook. Please tell me this is just a bAd dream. Please tell me none of this is true!'

'I'm sorry, babe, but I couldn't let Foster live after he'd killed Freds. I was lucky to get out of his place alive the first time. I thought he was going to kill me too. But I managed to escape before he finished me off. But I swore I wouldn't rest until I'd sorted him out for good. I waited for the right moment and when it came along…'

Effy burst into tears again and collapsed into Cook's arms once more. It was proving all too much for the poor girl whose head was in a complete spin and she felt like she was going to be sick. She started to choke and make alarming vomiting noises and Cook, recognising the signs, helped her out of the car and into the fresh cold evening air. He stood by her side as she threw up all over the pavement, but he thought the fresh air would do her some good after the horrendous shock she'd just had.

'What are we doing here?' she asked after she had stopped vomiting.

'This is Foster's house. I'm certain he buried Freds in the garden somewhere. He wouldn't have dumped him out in the open anywhere. Too risky and he wouldn't have wanted Freds to be found. Si I reckon Freds is buried in the garden here. I want to find his body before I take off for good. I have to find him again before I go, Eff. I need to do this one thing first before I leave for good. Are you with me on this? Will you help me find him so we can say goodbye to him properly?'

Effy nodded, gulping back the tears in huge swallows and she grabbed hold of the hand that Cook held out to her and followed him in silence as the couple made their way over to Foster's house, disappearing around the side and completely out of view.

** THE END**

**Author's Message**

Well there it is – the end of the story, at long last! Thanks so much to everyone who has followed the story over the past few months and have given me so many wonderful reviews and encouraging comments. They have been greatly appreciated. I hope you have enjoyed this story which sadly I feel will definitely be my last ever Skins fanfiction

It is time for me to 'move on' and do something totally different – perhaps I might have a go at doing some pure comedy. I am considering having a go at writing a Blackadder fanfic or something similar. If any of you have any suggestions as to what, if anything, you would like to see me have a go at next, please let me know. Your suggestions will always be most welcome!

In the meantime may I wish everyone a Very Happy New Year for 2011 !

John (matureskinsfan)

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